How to bed a professor!
by Gildor
Summary: How would you react if you awoke naked next to your least favourite teacher with no memory of the day before? How would you react if you awoke naked next to your least favourite student with no memory of the day before? This is how Snape and Hermione did.
1. Before the Storm

Disclaimer: The world and the recognisable characters belong to the amazing author J.K. Rowling, I am just playing with them, and making no money wile doing so.   
  
Pairing: Snape/Hermione   
  
Rating: R   
  
Distribution: Please e-mail me if you want this story or anything I do on your site/archive, I'd be very honoured!   
  
Feedback: Opinions, Constructive comments and criticism, ideas, and suggestions, very welcome, compliment especially, it makes me writer faster and update sooner.   
  
Notes: This is set in the 7th year in Hogwarts, making all the kids around 17 years old of age.   
  
*********************   
  
Halloween - or more accurately - the day after, Draco was situated in the Slytherin common room toasting his comrades in crime (Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle) after having succeeded with a prank that had outdone most in Hogswart's past.   
  
A sleeping potion had mysteriously mixed itself into the pumpkin punch drunk by both one head of house and one student, whereupon they'd been transported unseen back to the private chambers belonging to one of them. It had been long planned, and had succeeded with next to no hiccups.   
  
"Hagrid would have been funnier" Goyle commented, gulping down his butter beer with a content smile on his lips   
  
"Hagrid? Don't be perverted; trust me on this, when Granger awakens, and if she ever recovers from the shock, she wont dare to show her face in potion class again, let alone be able to leave the room without having half her house's points deducted", Draco replied, nibbling absently on a chocolate digestive biscuit.   
  
"Won't it look bad for Slytherin, if this comes out?" Crabbe tried   
  
"What? That Snape shagged a mudblood? There isn't a respectful wizard out there who would comment. It would be worse for Granger's reputation. Just imagine: they would probably question how she got all her high grades, she would probably lose her head of house title -- she might even be expelled. The plan is perfect!" crowed Malfoy. 


	2. Chapter 1 Morning after

Always uneasy in his sleep, Snape shifted like a snake under the thin bed covers, one arm tucked beneath his chest, the other swung across the bed, over the bust of a lady that was stirring and awakening from last nights festivity.  
  
Hermione groaned at her aching and heavy cranium, cuddling close to the warmth that lay beside her. She stretched out lazily, one hand searching out her new surroundings. The first thought that sprung to her hazed mind, was that the bed was by far larger than what she was accustomed  
  
to. Also... there was this matter about a warm wall of something or another, that had its legs entangled with hers.  
  
Eyes flying open, she glared about in shock and confusion at her unfamiliar surroundings.  
  
At first glance, she noticed she was currently occupying a double four-poster bed, with marine blue satin covers which.. 'oh god no', she thought, was about all she was currently wearing. It didn't take quite as long to notice that she was not alone, and that her current bedfellow, was not wearing very much else either. Her mind finally cleared enough to realize that..  
  
'Oh, God, It's a man.'  
  
She laid on her back, clutching the blanket to her bust in hope that at some point she would awaken from this nightmare. She tried to recollect the details of last night's event, but somewhere after having a row with Ron, and dancing with Neville Longbottom, it all seemed a bit foggy and distorted.  
  
Carefully she drew her legs out from between her companion's, froze as he stirred, and held her breath in hope he didn't awaken. Her pulse increased as she lay petrified, building up the courage to oh-so-slowly raise her body up into a sitting position, carefully distributing her weight as to not cause a reaction from her bedfellow.  
  
'Tall, skinny, old??? black long hair, rather pale.. hmm.. oh.. Oh.. OH GOD'  
  
"OH GOD!"  
  
she cried, clasping her mouth to stop her sudden outburst of whimpers..  
  
'oh god no.. no no no no!!!'  
  
Snape drew his arm from under his body and ran a hand through his tangle of hair, stroking his temple and wincing at the force of his hangover. He shifted to lie on his back, but was puzzled to find an obstacle blocking him; it didn't help that his stirring elicited a loud frightened whimper from the source.  
  
He jerked around, ending up face to face with the frightened expression of Hermione, who let out a faint scream at the sight of him, and clutched the covers to her body.  
  
Snape seemed equally astonished, and for once unable to formulate the words to say in correct order: "What the.. who.. how.. Miss.Granger?!? how!.. Oh Merlin"  
  
Hermione broke in to tears, and Snape just glared at her, his lips struggling to formulate the appropriate words for the situation, and finally settling for a shout of  
  
"What is Merlin's name is going on here?!?"  
  
Hermione squirmed, and half ducked under the covers, continuing to cry..  
  
"Tell me, NOW! What is this, a prank?"  
  
"I.. I.. do not know.. Professor Snape" she whimpered, still in shock  
  
"what do you mean you don't know? I have been teaching you for six years, and have been waiting for you to finally say those very words -- however, I never thought they'd be under *these* circumstances!"  
  
The humoured remark stopped her crying, leaving her only astonished. Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and trying to clear his aching mind. He was naked, she was naked -- somehow, there was little he could come up with in the way of sarcastic remarks, as he was busy trying to remember something of last night through the haze.  
  
"Please.. Miss Granger.. spare me.. just tell me if this is one of your, Potter and Weasley's little games, please." He pleaded, in a soft, controlled voice.  
  
"Professor, I.." she broke in tears again..  
  
"Tell me!" he thundered..  
  
"I don't remember."  
  
"No!" he growled, looking a bit panicky himself, "This can't be happening!"  
  
'This can't be happening'  
  
**************************  
  
Thank you Nicole my friend in London, for beta reading it so that I can post this improved version *lots of hugs*  
  
More chapters to come, I am struggling with where to take this..  
  
sensitive snape cruel snape perverted snape  
  
Maybe I should have a vote *laughs* No, I have written a few more chapters, but since I have gotten some comments on my punctuation, I decided to have them all beta read this time.  
  
Oh poor Sevvy, Poor 'Mione, and how I love playing with them like puppets.. PUPPETS on a string.. dance puppets dance.. 


	3. Chapter 2 Her conclusion

"Professor, do you think we.. uh.. you know.."  
  
"NO!!", came the emphatic reply.  
  
Hermione watched the potion master slide out of bed with as much dignity a naked man could possibly present, when leaving the bed occupied by his top of the class student. Snatching a pillow to cover his privates, he began searching through his apartment frantically. "Where are my blasted clothes.." he growled.. "we must have undressed somewhere!" he turned to look at the startled Hermione who was still sitting, petrified, underneath the bed covers; her eyes widened at his chosen words -- 'we must have undressed'.  
  
"What are you doing just sitting there?", he snapped. "Help me find your clothes and get dressed!"  
  
Observing him move about the room, exposed except for a shabby old pillow covering the essentials, she couldn't help but notice how he somewhat seemed less threatening. He always wore an excessive amount of fabric, black that neither enhanced or diminished his shape -- billowing cloaks and robes that made his figure seem somewhat larger. He was as lean as he was tall, and he stood at around six feet, give or take, his frame gaunt, his muscles toned, but possessed of a very pallid complexion.  
  
"Get a move on!" he barked, which startled her into action, and she half leapt out of bed, still clinging to the covers with dear life, and ended up clumsily scrambling on the floor in a heap.  
  
"Merlin, grant me patience.." he groaned, collecting a fresh set of wizarding robes from his closet, and entering the bathroom.  
  
Hermione sat on the dark hard wood floor, and ran the current scenario through her mind a couple of times; snapping back to reality, she got up. Wrapping the bed clothes about her small frame like a toga, she carefully explored the room for anything that could resemble her school robes. She continued in this idle search until she heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.  
  
She took a relieved breath, as this bought her some time; she began to take in the alien surroundings of Snape's chambers, struggling to come up with some sort of strategy to escape this even more alien scenario. The shock factor was diminishing, along with her tears, and with the return of her renowned sense of realism and logic came the realisation -- she was not only naked in the centre of her potion professor's private bed chamber, but she had probably also lost her virginity to.. greasy, sleazy Snape!  
  
She shuddered in complete repulsion. Her tears rose again, only to be defeated by a new sense of determination. She had to get out of here! If she was to make any sense of what happened or discover what exactly had gone so terribly wrong on the night of Halloween, then she had to be somewhere, anywhere, but in her current spot. Tucking the sheet more neatly about her body, she settled on the bed to wait him out.  
  
Snape appeared soon after, unshaved, his hair dripping, and dressed in his customary black teacher's robe with a high collar. Being fully dressed in his frock and trousers made it easier for him to adopt his teacher role, and he gave her a look of disdain. Hermione gathered from his more controlled tone, that he had spent his time thinking about the current predicament as well. "Miss Granger" he sneered, "why are you not yet dressed?"  
  
"I seem to have misplaced my school uniform, Professor" she replied calmly.  
  
"Then you must not have looked properly!". He shrugged, allowed his head to  
  
fall in to his hands, and started massaging his temples.  
  
~~~*~~~  
  
In the bathroom, he had sat down on the edge of the tub and had turned the taps on. The soft gushing sound of water had stimulated him, and he made a desperate attempt to gather some feel of authority while mulling over the facts.  
  
Last night he had reluctantly attended the Halloween party, after the promise from Dumbledore that he could choose his partner for the next 'teacher bonding' event, instead of always being forced to patrner with the likes Hagrid, or Hooch. He had taken his time finishing off his meal, refraining from dancing and just shot a look of disgust to each happy individual that dared to look his way. Three hours and four goblets of pumpkin punch later, he had begun to stab absently at the cheerful faces on the icing of the cupcakes icing before being overcome with the urge to use the lavatory.  
  
Returning to the Hall, he poured himself another two goblets of punch, before starting to patrol the hallways, deducting points from over-excited students who were making-out behind various statues. It was around this point that it all became a bit distorted; he had felt dizzy, as well as a bit nauseous, and then things became too hazy to recollect anything more... he vaguely recalled Professor McGonagall asking him if he had tasted the punch, and mumbling something about some student spicing it up with some alcoholic substance..  
  
'Oh Merlin no...', he thought.  
  
He didn't know if he should cry or laugh, but then settled with neither; instead, rubbing his forehead with frustration until it was red and sore. Could he really be capable of this? Never in any drunken state of his previous life had he become so intoxicated that he could neither remember what had happened, nor done something he truly regretted. He would have thought that the concept of seducing a student, regardless of how drunk or how drugged he was, would be too obscene for him to contemplate, let alone go through with. And of all women to choose, why *Hermione Granger*? If he had been so drunk that he had chosen a girl whom, for the last few years, he had hardly been able to tolerate in his class, then how could he possibly have, well.. gotten it up?  
  
Turning off the taps, Snape slipped into the warm water, feeling the stress draining just a little from his tense muscles, and started to speculate on this disturbing thought. This whole bizarre situation barely seemed real; he reflected that in his fifteen years or so as professor at Hogwarts he had never thought of a student in any manner or way that could be considered indecent. After all, he basically raised the brats, from age eleven when the girls had nether chest or hips to speak of; one thing he could state with confidence, was that he had no interest in children in 'that' sort of way. 


	4. Chapter 3 His conclusion

He picked up a scrub and began soaping in his body, a bit more furiously then he usually would have, the force almost painful as stood speculating. Hermione was theoretically not a child anymore, and definitely not underage; though he never regarded any of his students with any sense of lust, he would have to be a monk not to notice how the girls in his classroom were transforming into women before him.  
  
Was it possible? What other options were there? He could had gotten so drunk that he had politely invited one of his least favoured student for a friendly sleep-over at his place; she, being too drunk to think rationally and reject his offer, could have gotten undressed along with him and slipped under the covers, where they both had a polite and friendly hug before falling asleep beside each other?. Now, that was just plain ridiculous, and he was convinced that if he was drunk enough to do that, he was drunk enough to..  
  
"Oh Merlin No.."  
  
He winced in disgust.  
  
"....I slept with a student!"  
  
~~~*~~~  
  
When he exited the bathroom, he had hoped to see Hermione in her student robes, which would perhaps have made their conversation a tad easier. On his return, however, the sight of her, naked, covered in his personal bed sheets and situated on his bed, caused some of the established control to fade, and he found himself nearly struck anew with panic.  
  
"I can find neither my clothes or yours, Professor Snape", she'd replied in  
  
her normally 'lecturing' tone of voice. In response, Snape straightened his  
  
posture.  
  
"Well, I can't be bothered with this right now.." he growled, shooting her a look of disapproval, before heading over to the bookshelf where their wands lay. One tap on the chin, another on the hair, and with the correct set of mumbled words, had rendered him shaved and dry before he threw her wand on the bed.  
  
"Do you think yourself capable of transforming those sheets into something that could possibly resemble your school robes? Your current attire is hardly what I would call appropriate" he snapped. Before she could reply, he had swept out through his door, leaving her a little puzzled.  
  
She got up and untangled herself from the bed clothes, draping them over one side of the bed, feeling still quite awkward as this was a first attempt at transfiguration in the nude. Creating a garment wasn't the hardest of tasks if you had some cloth ready; she had been taught to do so in her fourth year. She needed a picture though, and there was none up on display except a tattered old photo of some potion master showing off an antidote, next to what was, surprisingly, a framed and autographed Quidditch game card. From the 70's of "Doug 'speedy' Diago", a famous chaser that Ron and Harry occasionally went raving about, she recalled.  
  
She opened several drawers, finding little else there but boxer shorts and socks, in colours covering the grey scale, with the occasional blue sock thrown in for variety. In the bottom drawer was a seemingly unused polka dotted pair of socks next to a small gift card featuring some dancing snowmen and the words 'marry Christmas Severus, lots of twinkles, Albus Dumbledore'. She moved to the next set of drawers, having far more luck this time when finding in the third drawer down two, shoe boxes, which held a collection various of old and new photos.  
  
She sat her naked self on the umber coloured rug and spread the pictures out before her. Most were in colour; some were in black and white. None seemed particularly muggle-like, for they waved, smiled, and walked about. Most featured strangers; she found only a few of Severus himself, but on three or four occasions she came across pictures with a rather shy looking boy, about her age in his school robes, his hair still the same length as it was now and just as greasy. Looking more intently at the pictures, she found herself bursting into laughter when she noticed how he somewhat resembled a long haired Victor Krum..  
  
"What do you think you are doing? What you laughing at?!", a voice thundered from the doorway. A startled Hermione leapt up to her feet, which exposed her full naked frame; she let out a loud whimper and sank back down to the floor, desperately trying to cover her naked flesh with her hands.  
  
For the second time in one morning, Snape found himself again lost for words; though his lower lip wobbled like a mad goldfish in it's attempt to form them. He discarded the pewter tray he held which contained two smoking goblets, and he turned his back to her so she was out of his sight.  
  
"Why haven't you done as I said, and how dare you go through my personal belongings!", he shouted.  
  
"I.. I.. am sorry professor, I needed a photo and.."  
  
"Quiet! Get in the bathroom now!", he snapped, "and don't show yourself before I say so!"  
  
Hermione leapt to her feet as if they were on fire, and vanished into the bathroom.  
  
"Why do I have to do everything myself!", he moaned.  
  
A tired Snape rubbed his forehead yet again and reached for one of the goblets, downing the substance in one go with a grunt.  
  
"Merlin..." he growled again, moving over to the area where she had been seated, struggling to keep the image of her naked shape from his already distorted mind. He frowned, gathering the pictures and stuffing them back in the shoe box, and halted at the one she had been looking at in particular. He had been in his sixth year, and it had been taken before a Quidditch match. He'd been a Keeper for Slytherin, and not a bad one either, he admitted; but it was all past, and none of her business. He fished out a picture of a Slytherin girl in her robes and shoved the box back into the drawer, shutting it.  
  
Transfiguration was never his strong point, but then it only had to resemble the school uniform enough for her to return to her room without raising too much suspicion. He shook his wand and did a simple but familiar colouring spell, changing marine blue in to solid black. The rest was tedious work since he was hardly accustomed to making girly school robes from his bed sheets, but he slowly modelled the fabrics into something resembling a dress of a sort, transporting the image from the photo, into reality. However, it was far from where his mind was; he was thinking more in the line of: what should he do about Hermione Granger?  
  
'well Hermione' he thought, 'looks like we just had sex; oh well, it happens. Be a good girl and don't tell anybody, and I'll give you extra consideration on your potions exam'. No, that just wouldn't do, and winced at the thought.  
  
'There..'. It lacked the normal details, like the Hogwarts crest, but he was certain she could excuse that on the short trip from the dungeon to the Gryffindor tower. He knocked firmly on the bathroom door, and slipped the dress through the opening along with a pair of socks, and a pair of boxer-shorts.  
  
Snape settled down into one of the liver coloured armchairs, before the lit fireplace, and downed a shot of whiskey while awaiting her return.  
  
Hermione appeared shortly, wearing her improvised garment and feeling for the first time that day slightly decent. She forced an embarrassed smiled to her flustered and tearstained cheeks, moving with soft steps in to the centre of the room.  
  
"Sit down!" he growled in a controlled tone, his expression far from welcoming, serious but no longer threatening. "Do you want a drink?" he asked, opening the whiskey bottle, but she shook her head, swallowed and replied  
  
"No.. my head still hurts.." her voice more of a whimper then she intended. He made a grunt, and motioned with his hand towards the doorway.  
  
"See that goblet over by the door?" he asked, pouring himself another shot of whiskey.  
  
"Go and drink it, now"  
  
"Uhm, What is it?"  
  
"Save your questions for later Miss.Granger" he gruffly requested. "Just do as I ask, for once". He took a gulp of his drink, and watched as she cautiously moved towards the door and obediently sipped from the goblet. "All of it!" he barked, and she proceeded to drink the goblet's entire contents in one draught. Her nose wrinkled in disgust to the foul flavour. A strange tingle sensation flooded her brain, and she shuddered as it moved along the length of her spine, ridding her of any feel of ache or strain.  
  
"Head better now?" he queried in a smug silky tone.  
  
"Uh, yes professor.. thank you". She forced a faint smile.  
  
"Now sit down; I believe we need to have a small talk.." 


	5. Chapter 4 The Talk

Hermione had settled in one of the tall armchairs, both legs tucked underneath her, huddling together for some sense of security. Snape was finishing off his second glass of whiskey, allowing some silence to fall between them to ease the already built up tension. Both had come to a state where they were able to view the situation with some clarity, if not rationality. Snape had slipped back in to his role as a teacher, and fixed Hermione with a look of contempt and disdain, an expression she was very familiar with, from her time in his classroom. He leaned nonchalantly back in his armchair, holding the whiskey glass aloft, and regarded her in a rather penetrating and scrutinising fashion; it was enough to make her feel naked again.  
  
"Miss Granger, do you believe your fellow students have begun to speculate about your absence?" Shifting uncomfortably, she shook her head.  
  
"No professor, as head girl I am given a single room, which only I have access to. If anybody comes knocking, they will either think I am already in the library, or having a rare lie-in"  
  
"And what will you be telling them, if they so ask?" he leaned forward.  
  
"I.. I don't quite know yet, I don't really know what to make of this at all" she replied nervously, suppressing an urge to lean back at his approach.  
  
"Ah yes!" he finished off his whiskey and with a quick swish of his wand and the uttered words 'Retrisium' the glass and bottle flew up and floated in to a mahogany cabinet that stood near the hearth. "Let's get that out the way first.." he drew a deep breath "tell me Miss Granger, what exactly do you recall from last night.."  
  
Hermione tugged her lower lip, an annoying habit which came when nervous. She shifted her gaze toward the flames. "Scarcely anything.. I.. I recall being in a debate with Ron, he didn't like the way that Zackery Rain a seventh year Hufflepuff, was holding me, said we were dancing too close.. Ron is always funny like that.. he.."  
  
"spare me the details" Snape growled, and rolled his eyes. "just keep yourself to the highlights, if you can"  
  
"Uhm, yes there isn't more to it then that. I was sipping some punch and watched Ginny and Harry dancing, and then Neville came and asked me if I wanted to dance, and so we did. Near the end I was feeling a bit light headed, and drowsy, so I decided to head outside for some fresh air. I can just remember trying to manoeuvring down some stairs, being frightened to fall, as I was awfully dizzy and nauseous.. "  
  
"mmm.. I see.." Snape sunk back in his seat, turning quiet.  
  
Truth be said, he was relieved! The only thing he could genuinely think would make the situation any worse, would be a school girls crush; not that he could think of any particular reasons for anybody to have an infatuation about him. He was hardly pleasant or particularly handsome, but he could at least rule out the possibility that somehow in his drunken state he had come across an over excited Hermione, who had willingly accompanied him, in hope of fulfilling some form of puppy love. In fact that he had even considered it, seemed ridiculous to him now, so he made a snicker that turned in to a scowl once catching a puzzled looking Hermione.  
  
  
  
Keeping his lecturing tone, he regarded her with a look of contempt, and said in a near whisper, he usually used when wanting the complete attention of his students. "what do you think might have happened from there on.."  
  
"I.. I dear not think..", she admitted ashamed, "do you believe we.. uhm..", she blushed turning quiet  
  
"-Yes-" he replied coolly, continuing in a sarcastic, almost mocking tone: "I do believe we fornicated, if that is what you are asking"  
  
Perhaps it was the confirmation of her fears, him choosing the word 'fornication', or even the mocking way he had pronounced it, as if waking up with students was a common issue of his, but a weak whimper erupted from throat of Hermione, and she clasped her mouth to quiet it, eyes watering.  
  
"Well honestly, Miss Granger, if you can see any other explanation, I am all ears, but considering the facts and the given situation, I can see no other conclusions.", he added, in an irritable tone.  
  
Hermione sank down in her chair completely at this, hiding her face behind her hands, and crying openly. Snape groaned out loud and rolled both his eyes and his neck at her childish behaviour, as watching her made him even more irritated. He stopped himself from snapping at her, and instead handing a silk handkerchief, and waited patiently until she spotted it and hesitantly took it from his grip. He reached forward and awkwardly patted her shoulder.  
  
"Do not fret, Miss Granger," he said, his voice still lecturing and stiff, "It is not the end of the world; after all, it is not as if either of us remember anything, so it is probably best to just forget about it and move on".  
  
"F.. forget?" she said in a sniffle, peering out from behind her hands "p.. professor, you do not understand, I am.. I mean, I was a virgin.. this was my very first time.." she watched him, awaiting a reaction, but Snape remained untouched by her remark.  
  
"Oh I didn't expect you to understand!" she howled, vanishing once more behind her hands and continued sobbing.  
  
Snape ground his teeth together, suppressing an urge to smack her; instead he groaned in an tired tone, "Well no, I do not see what all this moaning is about. You should consider yourself quite lucky, after all, from what I hear, many women find their first time a horrendous experience -- since you don't remember, this will never become an issue of yours"  
  
It was plain logic to him, and he couldn't understand what she was raving about. She obviously didn't recollect the experience, so her behaviour was completely irrational, he thought. After his remark, she had stopped crying long enough to turn to look at him, study him, shudder, then return to her weeping, to the shaking of her head, and her murmuring of nonsense under her breath. Snape sighed; it looked to be a longer discussion then he had planned. 'Oh well' he thought, surrendering, there was only one thing to be done about it: the British salutation to everything.  
  
Rising to his feet, Snape walked over and placed a small cauldron of water on the current blazing fire, and with some magical help he had the water boiling within seconds. He glimpsed back at Hermione who was still weeping, more quietly now then before, whimpering more instead, and wiping herself on his handkerchief -- obviously forcing herself to calm damn. He picked a canister from off the mantelpiece, and using a tea strainer, he swirled some herbal mixture in to her cup, adding some milk and sugar.  
  
A shaken Hermione watched him attentively, curious of what he was making; when offered a cup, though, she pulled back, shaking both hands before her, her body language rejecting Snape's brew.  
  
"It's just tea, Miss Granger' he said imperiously, 'it will do just as good as any potion I can conjure up". He forced it into her hands, and she took it, sipping it under the scrutinizing eyes of the man. It did help; still sniffling and shaking, she managed to calm herself, watching Snape seated in a crouched position before her, both hands resting on each side of the chair, and his hollow black eyes focusing. "Feeling better?" he asked in soft but chilling tone. She nodded her reply.  
  
"Good" he said, leaning forward, which in turn causing her to sink back, his person intimidating but not all too threatening, his eyes attentive but not welcoming "Now, I want you to listen to me, Hermione, this is extremely important:", the use of her first name startled her, more so then the silky soft and warning tone his voice. "You will not mention this to anybody, do you understand?", he said in a soft whisper, "nobody, not even your precious friends, Potter and Weasley!"  
  
She didn't reply, but just watched him attentively as he continued, "if any of this comes out, not only are you risking -my- job, good name and reputation, but there is chance you will face suspension as well, as this is hardly the appropriate behaviour of a student, and especially not that of Head girl, who is supposed to be a role model for the whole of the school." He leaned in on her, his hooked nose inches from her face; Hermione swallowed, having no voice to bare, and simply nodded her agreement, sinking back.  
  
"I am serious, Hermione, if you as much as whisper a single word about this to anybody, out side or inside this school, I'll personally make certain that any hopes you have regarding the presence or the future, will never come to fruitition". His lips curled into a nasty little sneer; "I have no desire to threaten you, but I wish for you to understand the importance of which I speak, and this unfortunate situation!"  
  
She swallowed hard, and replied in a tone that came out more of a squeak then intended, "Yes, Professor Snape"  
  
The terrified expression pleased him, and he pulled back with a satisfied smirk on his lips, regarding her, before rising back at her feet straightening his robes. "Good! Now finish your tea", he said dismissively, settling back in his own chair.  
  
She obeyed him, clutching the warm cup close to her chest possessively, taking short but repeated sips while trying to ease her mind, and watching the silence of the room settle on her once again.  
  
So this was to be her first sexual encounter, she mused. Rather ironic, really, that it would be with a professor; she basically lived and breathed schoolwork already -- why not sleep with it as well. The corner of her mouth twitched up in a faint grin which, luckily, Snape didn't catch. Yes, laughing at it, that was about the only solution she could think of, and which she hadn't already tried. Laugh, accept and forget! Sticking with the irony, she couldn't really think of any other teacher she would rather have awoken next to: Professor Binns was dead, Professor Flitwick was uhm.. short?, Professor Dumbledore and Vector was old, and Hagrid was well, only half human. Snape only dysfunction was that he was a sleazy and arrogant prick, she though, calling a spade a spade. She sipped her tea.  
  
Snape was the one teacher in whole of Hogwarts who received any volume of sexually related remarks at all. Being just about the only teacher people thought capable of reproducing, mixed with the danger of making any daring remark about his person, made him the perfect target. 'I bet he is so uptight 'cause he has never gotten laid' was among the more common of jokes, along with 'I bet he is gay; that's why he gives all the pure blood boys in his house such special attention, in hope of some -special- attention in return'  
  
She downed the last of her tea and sat the cup aside, turning her attention back to him. "Professor, if there is nothing more, I had better get back to my room now.."  
  
"Actually there is one more thing Miss Granger" a dark voice sounded from the depth of the opposite arm chair. She perked up, and looked his way.  
  
"I don't believe ether of us actually thought of applying any contraceptives, and I assume you are not on any pills or potions?"  
  
She couldn't believe he had really asked, and suppressed an urge to frown at him, shaking her head.  
  
"of course not Professor, I didn't think waking up in the bed of a teacher was situation I should have prepared for" he scowled at her "Don't be cheeky, Miss Granger" he warned her, and she bit her lip, holding back an urge to snap back.  
  
"Now, I for one would rather be safe then sorry, so I'll develop a simple potion to prevent you from being" he hesitated, and sneered "with child". He observed her as she went pallid, realising the possibility. "Tomorrow, after class, stay behind, and I'll give you some, and the instructions to follow: it should be fool proof, and I'll rather not have you prove me wrong on this."  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape", the reply sounding more confident then she felt. Little more was said, and she hurried her agreements and promises to keep quiet, before stumbling out the door and back to the Gryffindor towers.  
  
***************************************************************************  
  
Oh stay put, this is not the end, more conflicts in the next chapter, when somebody else finds out about the.. 'fornication' (*laughs* I love that word :P It just doesn't sound right)  
  
I like my Snape mean, and extra spicy.. I don't know how 'in character' I manage to write them, so some judgement please? *smiles*  
  
How do you like your Snape?  
  
Hmm, this story is something I have been playing with over the Christmas holidays, wile not enjoying the heavy snow of Norway. Now I am heading back to England, and that means school will be first priority. I will try to update it once a week, but don't hold me to it, since Ill be writing it in school labs, and internet cafes.. (but I promise I wont give up on it yet) 


	6. Chapter 5 This is too much

Her journey back to Gryffindor tower was uneventful. Nobody stopped her, nobody gave her a suspicious glance, and when she shut the door behind her, she felt not uncommonly like someone who had just escaped a lion's den. She breathed out relieved, standing with her back up against the round portal door.  
  
"There you are Hermione!", called Ron and Harry, situated on the other side of the common room, and cutting out a newspaper photo of some Quidditch beater. "I told you she wasn't asleep" Ron told Harry; flickering a piece of paper into the bin. "What happened to your shoes?" Harry asked, glancing down at Hermione black socks.  
  
'Oh sorry, I borrowed these from Professor Snape since I woke up this morning naked, with nary piece of clothing to be seen' she thought to herself, imagining their faces. Sobering, she said "It's a long story Harry, I'll tell you later, maybe. She had enough secrets of her own, and as they no longer questioned everything she did, she passed them with a pleasant smile on her face, vanishing up the stairs, to the girls' dormitory.  
  
"It looks like she has been crying" whispered Harry; Ron seemed puzzled. "How can you tell?"  
  
"Didn't you see her? Her eyes were all swollen and cheeks were red."  
  
"I bet it was Malfoy, he must have bullied her and taken her shoes" Ron growled, jumping to his feet and rubbing his knuckles.  
  
".. her badge and scarf was missing too," Harry added, "We don't know for sure what's wrong, so I'll have a talk with her later"  
  
Ron grabbed his scissors and waved them vigorously in the air as if waving a sword (or a wand): "if he has as much as touched her, I'll hex him in to a slug and feed him to Errol", he shouted, causing Seamus Finnigan to peer up from his books.  
  
~*~*~@~*~*~  
  
The head girl's room was at the very top of the tower, and about half the size of the common room, with a comfortable seating area for guests that had issues to be discussed. She had barely gotten through the door before she pulled her clothes off. Robe and socks first, pausing before pulling down -his- boxers and throwing it all in a pile on her bed shuddering. She suppressed an urge to do a vaporizing spell, and ridding herself of the evidence, but she figured Snape might ask for his bed clothes back. Unlike the rest of the students, she had her private bathroom, and once naked, she didn't give the pile of clothes a second glance, and just disappeared inside to soak herself.  
  
It was still all too surreal to be true, but she was willing now to accept it, more so because he obviously did. He had been surprisingly tolerant and though far from pleasant, he had done little to humiliate her further, which had made the situation more bearable.  
  
"So what if I slept with Snape?" she said out loud, testing her voice in the small stone bathroom. Her nerves made her shudder; proud at her bravery, she turned the taps on, and sat down on the on the edge bath to reflect. She didn't quite know why she had been so dizzy that Halloween night, and she could only assume, what had affected her, had affected him also. It was something she would have to ask him tomorrow when she collected the potion. A contraceptive potion. She gazed down on her stomach, and stroked it, wondering. It was a highly disturbing thought, but since she was playing around with her own bravery, she couldn't help contemplate the possibility: to be pregnant with Snape's baby. Oh, what she would give to see Ron's reaction if she was to tell him that. She giggled.  
  
She turned the taps off, and emptied a vial of home made bath oils into the warm water, sinking her small body into the silky warmth of the tub. Leaning back, she returned to her original trail of thought - figuring out just what had happened last night.  
  
He had touched her, in ways that nobody had been allowed to touch her before; it would've made her break down into tears again, had she actually remembered anything from it. But now, it felt more like some absurd story, a bit like when your parents tell you about some childhood event that you held no memory of. She tried to imagine it, his big hands roaming across her stomach, his hooked nose inches of her face, and his heavy weight upon her, over her -- she winced, sinking deeper in to the warm water, reaching for a scrub and some soap and painfully began to rub herself clean.  
  
~*~*~@~*~*~  
  
No matter how vigorously she washed herself, when she got out of the tub, she still felt dirty - no - filthy was more like it. Filthy and robbed of something sacred and private that she would never be able to gain back; what was more, she didn't even know if he was fully to blame. Silent tears rolled down her face again, but she was settling with the idea, accepting it more then approving of it, and wiped her cheek absently while pulling some clean robes from her closet.  
  
A gentle knock was heard on the door; Hermione went to answer it, dressed in her white bathrobe, and her hair wrapped up in a towel. It was Harry; she could see her current state of dress startled him, and with an awkward smile, he drew his gaze to the floor.  
  
"Heya Hermione, is this a bad time?"  
  
"Not at all Harry.." she said with a smile, opening the door fully. "Come inside"  
  
Harry and Ron often spent time in her quarters, even when she wasn't present, but never with out her permission. She would be down in the library or patrolling the halls, while Harry and the lads would gather in her room, chatting about Quidditch and girls, and consuming large quantities of Butter beer and sweets. She was quite surprised to see him alone.  
  
"Where is Ron?"  
  
Harry moved in to the room, and shrugged his shoulders, peering curiously about.  
  
"He's with Seamus, his mom sent him some new Quidditch magazines." Hermione fixed him with a stern look. "Wha'?" he asked, puzzled  
  
"Why are you here, Harry?" she asked, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"We don't chat much anymore 'Mione, thought I would come and, you know.. see how you were"  
  
"Uh-huh", Hermione replied sceptically, choosing not to question him.  
  
Over the last few years of war and death, Harry had grown secluded and modest in his nature. It has been tough for them all, especially for 'the boy that still lived', and with Voldemort still roaming, he was regarded as somewhat of a national symbol who got praised where ever he went. As long as Harry was alive, everybody felt safe, and so he was watched over, and protected, making him a prisoner in the school. Harry didn't appreciate the publicity, or the fame, and with the ever-present danger lurking, he had become quiet, and difficult to read at times, even for Hermione and Ron.  
  
"What happened to your shoes?" he asked, watching as she vanished into the bathroom. "It's a long story Harry" she murmured, as she turned the taps on, and fished out her toothbrush and paste.  
  
"Did Malfoy's cronies attack you?"  
  
He didn't get a reply, as she was brushing her teeth. He shrugged and looked about her room, making his way over to the dresser where a large bowl of minty drops stood. She always had sweets out in case of visitors, but never anything but sugar free muggle ones that her parents sent her on a regular basis. He popped one in his mouth, and peered at her large four poster bed and the clothes she had discarded there; among them, Snape's underwear.  
  
Boxers? He didn't know she wore boxer shorts! He picked up the black pair and flipped it over in his hands; they seemed a bit big for her too, he contemplated.  
  
"What are you doing?" His face turned scarlet as Hermione came out of the bathroom, fully dressed in her proper school robes, catching him in the act.  
  
"Oh, I am sorry", he stammered, apologetic, dropping the boxer shorts back on the bed.  
  
"I.. was just surprised to see that you wear boxers!" He grinned awkwardly, and she snatched the pair, stuffing them into a drawer.  
  
"I don't!" was her simple reply, and he thought it wise not to push it.  
  
"I didn't see you for breakfast", he tried instead, seeing how she was doing a toasting spell on some bread she had stored away in a cabinet. Having finished, she started spreading on jam.  
  
"Uhm, no.. I was.. uhm, in a meeting!"  
  
"That early in the morning?"  
  
"Well yes, it was -very- important". She took a bite of her bread and turned to face him, with a look of confidence. "You don't have to tell me 'Mione, if you don't want to, but there is no need to lie". Harry frowned, and took a seat on the bed.  
  
"I am not lying, Harry!" she snapped, "I went to bed really early last night, and I woke up before everybody else, and had a meeting with.. Professor McGonagall!"  
  
Harry fixed her with a pair of suspicious looking green eyes  
  
"And if I ask McGonagall.." Her mind raced. "She probably won't admit to it -- I wasn't supposed to tell anybody in the first place!"  
  
"Ron is right", he laughed. "You are a terrible liar!"  
  
Hermione was now fuming, the toast shaking in her grip.  
  
"Think what you like Harry!" she spat, turning to face the window. "I do not like being interrogated! If you don't believe me, then fine!"  
  
Harry sat on the bed, and took a deep breath while watching her. "Fine, fine! It doesn't explain why you are walking about the school in socks and boxers", he had to grin a little, "but if you don't feel like telling, you don't have to."  
  
"I don't want to". A voice came from over by the window; it was weaker sounding then intended. He observed her, one arm tucked around her chest for, it seemed, a sense of safety. Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering her, and he figured she would tell him when she was ready.  
  
"Heh, did you hear about the two girls in Hufflepuff?" he tried instead, deciding to change the subject all together.  
  
"What girls?", she asked, peaking over her shoulder  
  
"Maysa I think one of them is called, I can't remember the name of the other, both in third year.. ginger haired girl, they always walk in a pair."  
  
"Maysa and Ruby" she replied quietly.  
  
"Yes, that is them. Heh, well somebody, apparently, put Vodka in the punch; they ended up getting *completely* drunk. They were said to have run about the halls singing the Hogwarts anthem, while chasing Mrs.Norris!" He laughed at the image. "Filch was fuming when he caught them, and of course, he wanted them instantly expelled. Well, Professor Sprout said it was not really their fault, unless they had drugged the punch themselves; the pair were sent to the Hospital wing, instead, where they slept off the alcohol's effects".  
  
He chuckled, and glanced over at Hermione expecting her to do the same; the look on her face, however, confused him.  
  
Hermione just glared at him, her expression was one mixed with shock and terror, and she clapped her hand over her mouth as if it would keep her from crying.  
  
"Are you okay?", Harry asked, rising to his feet, returning her gaze.  
  
"W.. who.." was all she managed, trembling with what he could only guess was fury.  
  
"I don't know.. I mean, the teachers might know.. what is the matter; are you okay?"  
  
So, it was alcohol! She wasn't much of a drinker, but she had never known it could affect her so; in fact it was quite confusing. She hadn't had that much punch, no more then say, Harry or Ron, and they didn't seem to suffer from as much as a hangover. And Snape, he was a drinker; she had seen the various bottles in his room ranging from Absinth to wines and whiskeys, and she quite doubted that a bottle of Vodka alone would cause him any more harm then feeling a bit disoriented and wake up with a minor headache.  
  
No, this made no sense; but at the moment, she couldn't think up another explanation - as Snape had said 'considering the facts and the given situation' - she could see no other conclusion.  
  
"That is it, isn't it.. -you- got drunk last night".  
  
The statement startled her and she just gaped at Harry in amazement - how did he know?  
  
"You got drunk last night", Harry continued, and you.. ", he looked down on the improvised school robe that didn't even look remotely like the genuine article, when seen up close, and grinned awkwardly. "Took off your clothes? Please tell me you didn't strip Hermione!"  
  
She swallowed hard.  
  
"That's why we couldn't find you last night, that was why you were dressed in bits and pieces." He laughed. "You spent last night in the hospital wing! And in the morning, Madam Pomfrey made this.. ensemble for you!". He smiled brightly up at her, looking quite content with himself. "It all makes sense now!"  
  
Hermione let out a deep breath and dropped down resigned on the bed, whispering in a voice hardly audible. "Yes! Almost!" She shook her head; "please Harry, if I tell you, if I tell you what -really- happened, will you promise me, swear that you won't tell anybody else? Nobody? Especially Ron?"  
  
"Of course!", he replied firmly, "you know I wont tell anybody!"  
  
She dropped her head in her hands and moaned. "Oh, I can't! It is too humiliating -- I am sorry Harry." He settled down beside her, put a hand on her shoulder, and clutched it. "C'mon, you can tell me, was I right? Did you get drunk last night?"  
  
She shuddered at his touch and drew her shoulder out from under his hand, whispering a surrendering "yes".  
  
"and.. you.. got undressed?" he asked carefully, waiting in anticipation. Hermione replied in a near whimper, "kind of.."  
  
"And you spent last night in the hospital wing with the Hufflepuff girls!" he concluded, feeling most proud of himself.  
  
"No" she replied, coolly. Hermione moved back to her feet and in a hunched posture she took a few steps forward, eyes fixed on the floorboards. "I don't remember much from last night at all, I don't know if I stripped, I could have." She could barely stand to look at him, standing with her back facing the bed. Harry watched her attentively  
  
"Harry.. I woke up in..", she took a deep breath, and turned around to face him.  
  
She spoke in the best of her lecturing tones, and fixed him with a confident stare: "Harry! I got drunk, and slept with Snape".  
  
The words vibrated in the air long after she had said them, and she marvelled at her own courage, as well as the perverted curiosity at how Harry would react.  
  
"W.. w.. WHAT? You got to be kidding!", Harry shouted, gaping at her with his mouth wide open, his eyes at their widest. "No! No you can't be serious! C'mon Hermione, you must be kidding here!".  
  
She lowered her chin to the floor, and he could see a tear sliding down her cheek, that she hastily wiped away. "It is true, I don't remember anything from it, but I awoke this morning in Snapes bed.. n.. naked!".  
  
"That.. that..". Fury would be far too subtle a word to describe Harry's feeling at that moment, and he rubbed his face in disbelief, still gaping in to the air. "That fucking bastard!"  
  
"Harry!" she snapped at him.  
  
"That evil sick minded bastard!". He leaped up to his feet and began pacing back and forth restlessly, rubbing his hands. "I never thought him capable of... That fucking evil bastard!"  
  
"HARRY!" she snapped again, grabbing him by the arm. He peered down on her in anger, fuming.  
  
"He didn't know Harry, he doesn't remember anything from last night either." Or at least he'd said he didn't, she mused.  
  
"And you BELIVE him?"  
  
"Harry please, you won't tell anybody, will you? You promised, remember?"  
  
He watched her in disbelief, his mouth having difficulties to form the words, shock still overriding his mind. Hermione was like a sister, and though of the same age, he and Ron were still as protective of her as Ron was of Ginny, and the thought of Snape -that- man, of all people, touching her, undressing her... His mind couldn't finish the thought. "You must tell somebody! How can you just.. accept it, what's happened."  
  
"Please Harry, I know what I am doing", she looked at him, pleading. "I am dealing with it, as best as I can!".  
  
"What? How?" "Me and Professor Snape had a long talk, we-"  
  
"Talk!?". Harry's expression was dumbfounded.  
  
"Yes.. since neither of us remember what happened, and both of us would rather forget about it, we have decided to not tell anybody."  
  
"We? Or -him- Hermione, you just told -ME-!"  
  
"And please don't let it be a mistake Harry! I don't want anybody to find out, it is " The tears ran down her face freely now, and she clutched his arm almost painfully  
  
"Please Harry, please promise me you wont tell anybody! Please..". He just stared at her, unable to form words.  
  
"PLEASE! Promise me Harry!". He watched her crying, and pulled himself away from her.  
  
"Okay, okay.. I promise.. I wont tell..". A strict finger pointed at her; "-I- wont tell, but you should!"  
  
She smiled a little, sniffed and gave a nod  
  
"Yes.. yes, I.. still might.. I am still coping with the shock myself.. I am not ready yet at any rate.."  
  
Harry shook his head again. "This is too much.."  
  
"Tell me about it!" she laughed, amazed that she actually could laugh at it.  
  
"Snape? Severus Snape? You had actual sex with greasy hair, half bat, half rat, Snape?" Hermione nodded..  
  
"This is too much!"  
  
*****************************  
  
Thank you ever so much for all the lovely reviews, it makes my day so much better when they arrive in my mailing box, and it makes me want to write faster.  
  
Thank you Nicole for your lovely Beat reading, you do a brilliant job at it *hugs*  
  
Now, to answer some questions, where in England I go to? I live in Bournemouth, well I study art there :) I am originally Norwegian.  
  
A lot of people has complained that my Hermione isn't kick arse enough ;) Well, I have taken this in consideration and will do my best to improve her attitude later in the story; it will be easier when I am not writing about her being ether shocked or upset.  
  
What people tell me in emails or in review I do take in to consideration, and I do listen and change my plot accordingly, if somebody point out something or come up with some good advice :)  
  
Osculate? Brilliant word, thank you for that, have been using it all week "Heya darling, want to come to my room to osculate for a bit" *laughs* 


	7. Chapter 6 The Owlery!

For the next hour or so, she confessed all the of the events of the morning, holding back only a few details, such as Snape walking in on her in the nude while she was searching through his photos. Harry listened, but showed little appreciation, and kept biting his lip to stop himself from interrupting her every five words with harsh accusations. It felt good to relate it, tell somebody, despite the fact she had sworn to secrecy, especially to Harry.  
  
"..And I will have to meet with him tomorrow after class, as the contraceptive potion only works if you take it within twenty four hours; if you add Hazel, though, then it can be used for a fourth night, but it loses some of its potency"  
  
"Uh huh..." Harry said, and rubbed his head, still dumbstruck. "This is mad Hermione!. I am sorry, I can't take all of this in."  
  
"I know.. I am glad I got to speak to you. I just needed to *tell* somebody -- this whole episode feel like such a surreal nightmare!" Hermione forced a smile, moving over to one of her cabinets where she dug out a bottle of pumpkin juice and two goblets.  
  
"Speaking of 'feel', how do you even know you two -- I mean, do you feel anything.. you know, down there." he did a hand motion that was most suggestive, if not a bit rude.  
  
"Harry!" she snapped, looking at him, shocked  
  
"I am serious, 'Mione -- if this was your first time.. and uhm.. this is your first.. isn't it?", he ran a hand through the fuzzy jet black hair, his face flushing red, and grinned up at Hermione baffled expression.  
  
"Are you implying that Professor Snape and I--"  
  
"No, no, no!" Harry interrupted quickly, waving his hands before him defensively. "I meant, you and Victor-- or, anybody really, you don't exactly tell us a lot about what you do these days--"  
  
"Harry! I didn't think I was obligated to inform either you or Ron about any part of my sex life, existing or not! It is hardly either of your business", she barked, nearly spilling one of the goblets.  
  
"Oh don't be like that, 'Mione, I didn't mean anything by it!" he shrugged, helplessly. "It is just that, if you were like, you know, a virgin, then wouldn't there be some blood, or wouldn't you feel at least a bit sore, or something?"  
  
She opened her mouth to argue, but shut it, realising he had a point. She was a bit amazed that he, of all people, would think of that.  
  
"And Snape", Harry continued, "he should feel something too, I mean.. I wouldn't know for I have never.. uhm, you know. But still, I think a lot of guys do feel something the next day.." he nodded his head in certainty.  
  
"Maybe he did", she replied, "maybe that is why he is so confident of it, it would explain a lot!". She took a sip of one of the goblets, staring into the distance.  
  
"I don't feel any different.. I.. think..", she said, sensing a weak tickling sensation in her lower region now that he mentioned it, but it could just as well be her imagination. "But it would make sense if he did". She deposited a goblet of juice into Harry's grip.  
  
"You should ask him tomorrow!", he replied with a nod of thanks, and sipped his drink.  
  
"I can't ask him!", she declared  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I just can't!"  
  
"You slept with the guy; I think that entitles you the right to ask if he has any feelings in his groin!"  
  
"Harry!", she snapped again. "I am starting to regret that I told you! This is humiliating enough, without having to ask him any embarrassing questions about his.. his.. privates!". She sat the goblet aside and turned away from Harry, peering foggy eyed toward the windows  
  
Harry gave a surrendering shrug, and pushed a strand of hair from his face. "I am sorry, 'Mione" he whispered, watching her. "I just can't believe that you and--", his whole body gave a shudder.  
  
"Well, at least you don't have to live with it", she replied bitterly  
  
"True", he admitted. "I didn't mean you offend you", he said, offering a little smile.  
  
"I know Harry", she replied softly. Silence fell on the two for a few moments, before she broke it with a tone that was near whisper.  
  
"You know Harry, it could have been worse, much worse", she said, a soft smile creeping across her features. "He didn't really insult me. He had all the chances in the world to humiliate, degrade, and shame me, and.. he didn't. He didn't even take any points, or sign me up for detention. I mean, he wasn't pleasant: far from it, he was both arrogant and smug. But he wasn't horrible either, not like he can be."  
  
"Don't give him too much credit" Harry grinned. "He probably would if he didn't fear somebody finding out about it; he can hardly take points off for you waking up in his bed."  
  
"Why not? It never stopped in him in the past, taking points for ridiculous reasons like Neville tripping in the hallway, or you sneezing too loudly", she pointed out.  
  
"I suppose", he said, sipping his juice.  
  
"Did you know he used to be a Keeper for Slytherin?", she added, looking over her shoulder in expectation.  
  
Harry's head poked up. "Really? A keeper? How do you know?"  
  
"I saw a picture with him and the whole of the Slytherin quidditch team", she replied. "I bet he was awful", Harry laughed. "Had Ron been here, he would have pointed out that he probably had fallen on his head one time too many times wile playing."  
  
They both laughed.  
  
~*~*~@~*~*~  
  
It was nearly dinner time by the time they left her room, and neither Harry nor Hermione could remember last time they had spent such a long time in each others company, talking and laughing. The conversation had shifted to the future and the muggle world, and how strange it would feel if they had to return to that existence once leaving school.  
  
In fact Harry didn't quite know what would happen to him once he left Hogwarts. He loved the school, but after seven years it was time for him to move on, and this he confessed to Hermione who assured him that she was more then convinced the threat posed by Voldemort would be over by graduation time.  
  
They talked about all the things they missed the most, and since there was only the two of them, they could talk freely about movies, and muggle food, with out Ron questioning each individual thing with as much curiosity as his father. It was pleasant to share each other company on their own, and they felt disappointed when their session was interrupted by dinner being served in the great hall.  
  
"You sure were gone for a long time", Ron commented once he caught the sight of them entering the hall. Harry and Hermione just grinned at each other.  
  
"So, what's the matter with her then?", he asked Harry, who had taken a seat beside him at the table. He looked up at Hermione who was chatting away with Lavender. "Oh you know, girl stuff; I think it is that time of the month again", he said casually. "And her shoes?", Ron asked. "Heh, you have a sister; you figure it out", Harry replied. "Who can understand girls", Ron chuckled, and seemed to settle on this answer, before changing the conversation to Seamus and Quidditch.  
  
"Hello, Potter", a sharp and unpleasant voice called from behind. Harry twisted his neck around uncomfortably, coming face to face with Malfoy and his two companions, Crabbe and Goyle who were both grinning viciously.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy" Ron spat, getting ready to rise from his chair. "Sit down Weasle, I am not here to see you". Draco's eyes scanned the table, catching the gaze of Hermione, who was watching the scene attentively. "I am here to see you, Granger!". His smile widened, and Crabbe stepped between Malfoy and Ron, who had risen from the table, warning him with a single look.  
  
"Afternoon, Granger. I didn't see you for breakfast today", he said, brightly.  
  
"And so? A lot of people skip breakfast!" Harry interjected defensively.  
  
"I said I was here to see Granger!", Malfoy growled. "Don't tell me you are becoming deaf, along with being dumb". Crabbe and Goyle snickered.  
  
"Piss off, Malfoy!" Ron barked, trying to push past Crabbe, who gave his shoulder a hard shove.  
  
"Oh Weasley, temper, temper! A lack of breeding, does not excuse a lack of manners". Again Crabbe and Goyle laughed, along with a small collection of Slytherins that had gathered behind the trio.  
  
Draco Malfoy had grown as tall and as lean as his father in the last six years, which had left him looking almost anorexic. Some of his irrational behaviour had vanished with his age, and he had become both articulate, and patient, but had no lack of arrogance or disdain.  
  
Crabbe and Goyle on the other hand, were strangely enough the same as they had always been. Huge square shaped brutes of muscle and meat, with baby round faces, and an intelligence that had changed little over the last few years.  
  
"Come over here, and I'll stop your breathing, Malfoy!" Ron barked, again trying to press past Crabbe who just grunted down at him and blocked his way with his paw-like hands.  
  
"Ron Weasley!", a sharp voice shot through the air, and all heads turned. Striding along the floorboards in purple robes was Professor McGonagall, her lips as pursed as somebody who recently had bitten down hard on a lemon.  
  
"What is going on here?", her eyes shifted from person to person and guilty eyes turned to the ground. "Threatening each other, here in front of all the younger students; you should all be ashamed! You are supposed to stand forward and be a good example to them. Return to your tables at once!". She glared over the small crowd of Slytherin who had made no effort to move. "*Now*", she stated firmly, and they all scattered like fleeing rats, searching for vacant chairs to settle on.  
  
Malfoy shot Hermione a poisoned look, before turning back to his table with the rest of the crowd, snickering behind McGonagall, who was now hovering over Ron and Harry.  
  
"Professor", Harry tried, once Malfoy was out of listening range. "We didn't start anything. Malfoy--" "I know, Harry". McGonagall interrupted quietly. But as we have discussed in the past, I can't tolerate such behaviour as this, despite whose fault it was to begin with". The two boys hung their heads.  
  
"Well", she said in a more pleasant tone. "Now that it all seems settled, let's eat, shall we?" she looked over at Hermione, who was still watching Malfoy, puzzled at the look he had given her. "Miss Granger, will I still be seeing in my office, tonight, at eight?". "huh? uhm, oh yes, Professor, I'll be there!". Head girl issues, she thought with a shrugged, and smiled up at the woman who nodded her good byes before, striding off.  
  
Once McGongall was out of sight, and the dinner was on the table, the three were back to chattering.  
  
"I wonder what he wants with you?", Harry asked, pouring some chicken curry onto his plate. "I don't know, and I don't really care to find out", Hermione replied, indifferently, as she buttered a roll and filled her glass with squash juice.  
  
Harry was noticing how Hermione's attention dwelled on the high table. Seated on the left side, resembling something like a black raven, sat Snape, his cold dark eyes scanning the room attentively, searching for misbehaving students like a hungry hawk searching out a unaware mouse.  
  
His eyes settled on her just once, and Harry noticed how he wrinkled his nose before his attention shifted elsewhere, and then avoiding her from there on. It angered him, his dismissive expression. He noticed Hermione looking down on her plate in shame, and only nibbling absently on her roll while staring lost in to the air.  
  
Ron didn't notice. It wasn't that he wasn't sensitive, he was just less attentive to his surroundings; like Malfoy, he too had changed a fair bit over the years. He had grown to look more like his twin brothers, tall but slightly stocky in build. He was now a beater on the Gryffindor team, and though both witty and charismatic, he became easily distracted, and kept himself to a limited interest.  
  
The current players were: Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl in the seventh year, and Ginny, who had grown both attractive and charming, causing many a boy to look her way (well, when Ron wasn't stalking her like some ginger haired bodyguard, that is).  
  
~*~*~@~*~*~  
  
After dinner Hermione went straight to her room, picked up the papers she would need for her meeting with McGonagall before settling herself at the library, planning to entertain herself with a book, and allow time to pass. She didn't know where Ron and Harry had gone off to, but they never hung around the library; in fact she lovedit's solitary feel on the weekends, as nobody was about except Madam Pince who was dusting off some books in the restricted section.  
  
"I knew I could find you here, Granger!". The slippery voice of Malfoy echoed trough the empty room. Hermione chose to ignore him out of principal, and continued her reading, keeping her head buried in 'A History of Horseradish'  
  
"What is this? You're ignoring me?", he said, peering about to see if Madam Pince was in sight before snatching the book out of her hands, and holding it out of her reach.  
  
"Hey give me that!", she shouted.  
  
"Calm down, I want to talk to you!", he said, closing the book and shuffling into seat opposite her. He handed the book to Goyle, who with Crabbe remained standing behind him, grinning disturbingly across at her.  
  
"What do you want malfoy!", she spat, leaning over the table with her eyes full of fire.  
  
"Easy, Granger. You are certainly a bit on the edge today; what is wrong? Did you wake up on the wrong side of.. *your* bed, this morning?". His two side kicks chuckled.  
  
"Whatever are you talking about, Malfoy?", she growled venomously through her teeth.  
  
"Nothing!", he replied simply, leaning back in his seat in a flamboyant pose -- stretched out and one arm swung over the back of the chair.  
  
"I was simply wondering where you were this morning", he asked with a grin. "I didn't see you for breakfast!"  
  
"That is absolutely none of your business", she stated flatly, fixing her cinnamon brown eyes with his blue.  
  
"Perhaps", he said with a grin, "but I am drawn by this uncontrollable urge of curiosity, since I didn't see you for the last half of yesterday night".  
  
"I am head girl. I can come and go as I please!" she replied dismissively.  
  
"Yes, and what could the head girl be doing? Perhaps romping about while the others have their attention focused elsewhere..?" he grin "I do not hope you find my attitude too Gryffendor'ish. It really doesn't suit me."  
  
"I do not have the slightest idea what you are going on about!", she snapped. "I left the party before everybody else, and patrolled the halls before heading straight to bed".  
  
"Who's bed, I wonder", Malfoy whispered, leaning forward a little.  
  
"Are you accusing me of something? If you are, I'll report you to the headmaster!", she warned him.  
  
"Ooh, not at all, simply curious. Allow me, though, to hear from your lips, that you were not frolicking after curfew last night. Just tell me and Ill be on my way, I promise!"  
  
She suppressed an urge to shout and settled with a silky soft sneer. "It's none of business what I do, Malfoy. Now leave me alone!!", she demanded, staring him straight in the eyes.  
  
"Oh..", Malfoy couldn't help but snicker, "is that so?". He peered up at Crabbe and Goyle who were snickering and chuckling so hard their fat faces had turned scarlet.  
  
"What are you two laughing about", Malfoy said, his voice dripping with menace and sarcasm. "We have obviously been mistaken. Come on, let's leave this Gryffindor to her reading". He took the book from Goyle, and with his back facing her; she could see him slip a hand inside his robes, pulling something out and placing it between the pages of the book.  
  
"I am sure that she will find.." he read the title, grinning somewhat at the words, "A History of Horseradish? Is that the most tantalizing book you could find?. Well I do hope that the little present I left you will make the book slightly more fascinating."  
  
He dropped it on the table and patted the cover with his hand.  
  
"Just a little something I found when I went to collect my owl first thing this morning".  
  
He leaned forward so he was just inches from her face. It was up in the Owlery of all places", he said in a disgusted tone, shaking his head.  
  
"Happy reading, mudblood"  
  
And with a wink and a smile he turned on his heal and left the library.  
  
Hermione watched him in astonishment. She was boiling with fury inside, but thought it better to keep her mouth shut, as he was obviously ready to leave.  
  
Once out of sight, she pulled the book carefully towards her and opened the pages. She gasped, and suppressed a whimper, her body tensing at the garment she found inside. Between the pages of the old book lay a pair of white cotton knickers, with the initials 'H.G.' sewed into the lining. They were hers from the night before!  
  
She had the most horrible habit of labelling everything she owned. Bottles, pencils, books and indeed her underwear, as she simply didn't trust that the house elfs wouldn't mix hers up in the wash, and now she was facing the consequences of one of her many organizing quirks.  
  
"Oh, god no".  
  
She winced, dropping her head in to her hands.  
  
"Just what I *don't* need!", she moaned..  
  
"And the owlery?!?! Ewww!"  
  
*****  
  
Ah here we finally go. I gave this to my beta reader about two days after I posted the other, but I suppose it is my fault for writing such long chapters, for her to beta read.  
  
Thank you again for all your lovely comments, it is hard to explain how much it cheers me up to find a "Fan fiction, review" msg in my mail box. Makes me all happy and excited :)  
  
I am trying to toughen Hermione up as you guys suggested.  
  
I want to use the British word "pissed" instead of "drunk" but oh well, here is a small Gilbert and Sullivan quote from Princess Ida, that makes me think about Snape.  
  
"I'm sure I'm no ascetic; I'm as pleasant as can be; You'll always find me ready with a crushing repartee, I've an irritating chuckle, I've a celebrated sneer, I've an entertaining snigger, I've a fascinating leer. To ev'rybody's prejudice I know a thing or two; I can tell a woman's age in half a minute -- and I do. But although I try to make myself as pleasant as I can, Yet ev'rybody says I'm such a disagreeable man! And I can't think why!" 


	8. Chapter 7 Amarissa Dracova

Snape was seated his office, craving something to drink, while searching through the notes he had prepared for his next class. 'Incompetent fools..' he mumbled to himself. 'Hensbane is used in only one bloody thing, a ridiculously simple rain potion', he moaned. Be very careful, it's poisonous', I say, 'remember to wash your hands after you handle it', I say, and what does the incompetent whelp go and do? He licks his fingers!  
A deep breath escaped his lips and he suppressed an urge to fling his papers against the wall in frustration. 'I need to get these papers organised' he muttered, searching frantically through them until, Ah, here it was, the notes he had made for the seventh years. He let out another groan; of course this reminded him of 'Hermione bloody Granger'. He opened his drawer to see if the potion he had prepared was still there; well of course it was, but with today's disasters, he didn't take anything for granted.  
  
Hermione Granger. Why wasn't there a spell that could allow for all of this to be forgotten? Well there was, but none that he was legally allowed to perform, and he was convinced it would back-fire without hesitation.  
  
He wasn't in the appropriate mood for this -- he felt ill-humoured, or rather, more ill-humoured then usual; plus his head ached like there would be no tomorrow. The headache, he could at least deal with, he noted, and with stiff limbs, he drew himself up to his feet and opened one of the mahogany cabinets in the back of his office. If there was anything he kept a large supply of, it was a Potion to cure headaches of differing potency and cause. Some were for migraines; some were for headaches caused by irritations, and some were for hangovers. He uncorked a green bottle, pouring the contents into a silver goblet and added a spoonful of sea salt. With the content fizzing and bobbling, he stirred it with a spoon, and collapsed in to one of the larger armchairs at the back corner of the room; he then tapped an enchanted candle with his wand, which made it flare in to a blue flame.  
  
Ah, the tranquil silence of the dungeon. Once designed to clench the screams of its chosen victims, now as his quiet refuge, no sound, not even the thousands of students that roamed the halls above, managed to penetrate.  
  
Sipping the content of the goblet, he wrinkled his nose in disgust. It really was foul tasting, and yet it rarely went a day where he didn't drink it. He really should try to find a way to sweeten the flavour, add some liquorice, or cinnamon if he could, anything..  
  
He then realised that he was avoiding the one subject that was stirring about in the back of his mind.  
  
"Hermione cursed Granger", he murmured quietly to himself..  
  
"No.." with a wrinkled and distorted expression, he spat out, "Harry Potter!"  
  
It was always Potter! She was part of his clique, and be it Ron or Ginny, whoever's fault it was to begin with, it all could eventually be narrowed down to Harry 'kiss my feet' Potter.  
  
He didn't quit know how he was involved, but he knew -- call it intuition or experience, but soon or later, the boy who still lived would be involved.  
  
Now he did indeed feel even more ill-humoured then before.  
  
Finishing off the contents of the goblet, his head felt free of strain, but his mood hadn't improved. In his around fifteen years or so as teacher at Hogwarts, he had never had to prepare for such a discussion; it was ridiculous, illogical, unreasonable, and absolutely absurd.  
  
He had brewed contraceptive potion! And why? Because for some, outrageous circumstance, he had sex, with one of his own students, and now she stood in risk of becoming pregnant with HIS child.  
  
How could this *possibly* have befallen him? And with Hermione Granger of all people, a student he could barely stand being in the same room with. It couldn't be her appearance; she was tolerable he supposed, but hardly pretty enough to tempt him, he mused, eyes shifting to the round coffee table and the pile of newspapers and magazines.  
  
"Brains, but no breeding..", he added in a superior tone, reaching into the pile and pulling out this month's issue of the 'The Wand', a tabloid magazine, which was known to be quite controversial in its views on the wizard world.  
  
"Can I truly have been so desperately lustful?"  
  
Women, he had no problems with, he reflected, flipping absentminded through the pages. He was hardly what one would call attractive, but not repulsive enough to repel the opposite sex. What he lacked in good looks he made up for in both stature and charm, and though he had no hesitation in acting unpleasant to those who failed to keep his interest, he could be both charismatic and charming when he so chose. He was a Slytherin after all.  
  
"Amarissa Dracova", he read out loud with a small twitch to the corner of his lips, stopping at the potion section of the magazine. In the right corner was a passport sized photo of a pointy nosed witch, with curly carrot coloured hair, and a pine green hat. She smiled and nodded, giving each reader a scornful look.  
  
He had no time for socializing during the school term. The weekend was spent ordering and stocking up the shelves with supplies, marking late papers, preparing notes for classes, attending staff meetings and patrolling the halls; and what little time he had left was spent either working on his private projects, or answering less urgent owl post.  
  
When he eventually did make time, it was spent with old friends, colleagues, and possible business partners of the future. It was hardly high society, and it allowed absolutely no time for women and certainly not relationships.  
  
He sunk back with a wicked grin on his face, a rare sight, but then more common in private then ever in public. He enjoyed women, against popular beliefs; he found them to be fascinating discussion partners, more so then some wizards he knew, but in turn, women had a tendency to annoy him immensely.  
  
Any a relationship with woman that he'd attempted in his younger days, only stretched over a few weeks before her breathing was enough to make him wince in irritation. Partners were high maintenance in his book, and he had no need or desire for it. He could happily go without female company if necessary for long periods. He did have, if he so desired, female acquaintances, whom he could take out, and dine if needed company. Anything more, however, was not guaranteed.  
  
Anyway, it had been barely been four months since last he had shared the 'company' of a lady. It had been end of July, he remembered, and he had agreed to attend this seminar and being one of the leading spokes wizards there, to give a quick lecture on some newly discovered nerve poisons. It made no difference to him whether he stood before a class of snot nosed children, or adults, he thought; he didn't need the money, but the publicity was always a pleasant bonus, as well as the free drinks at the bar. Once finished he had left the hall, caring little to stay and listen to the rest of the lecturers. The bar was empty, and he had grunted his order, making it clear he held no desire to make conversion with the bartender.  
  
Two drinks later he felt quite at ease, when a woman swept through the double doors and headed straight for him. Stretching a hand forth, she said, "Greetings, Professor Snape, I am Amarissa Dracova, a journalist in the publication --"  
  
"The Wand", he interrupted her.  
  
"Ah, you know my work", was her reply. "May I join you?".  
  
Usually, he would have said a firm no, but even he was wiser then to turn away a journalist who happened to write a well-known potions column. Waving an indifferent arm, he motioned for her to sit. She was about his age, and quite.. well, plain looking by his standards, not one he would usually look twice upon in normal circumstances.  
  
He turned on his rare charm, and decided the quicker he answered her questions, the quicker she would depart; he called the bartender over and got a couple of drinks for the two of them. He was pleasantly surprised with the ensuing conversation, as she turned out to be both witty and well educated in the subject of potions. It had been long since he have had such an in-depth discussion, and even found himself laughing out loud at one of her cruder remarks.  
  
It would be a lie to say that he didn't already appreciate her columns, for she was among the few he knew that publicly criticised Mortimer Tonsel, the head of the ministry of potions --who was a completely incompetent man in his opinion-- and for that she had already scored a major point in his book.  
  
The night moved on, and a few drinks later she accompanied him to his room. Though her face was, well unseemly, she had the body of a panther he noted, and the breeding and tongue of a Slytherin. More favourably, an hour and half later, she politely made her excuses, and left.  
  
He smiled pleasantly to himself at the memory, and threw the magazine on top of the pile, glaring blankly into the empty air.  
  
She had owled him a few weeks later at the release of her newest edition; her letter was professional, thanking him politely for their discussion, and asking him a couple of questions regarding a future column she was writing. He was mentioned in the current one, and it was exceptionally flattering, something that had made him laugh, and think that this was indeed the closest he had ever come to feeling like a complete tart. He had owled her back of course, his answer as sterile as hers, and in the few months to come, when they had been conversing, neither one had mentioned that single night of commitment free amour.  
  
"Why do women have to be so complicated..", he growled, thinking back on Hermione, and wondering if she would be as wise as Amarissa, or if he had to give her a fright. He shrugged, and drew his tired body back to his feet, eyes glimpsing the clock on the wall. With a sigh, he realised it was about time to face the seventh graders, and headed to his desk to gather his notes before he swept in to the classroom.  
  
It would be the first time he had ever dreaded a class to end; having yet another talk with Granger was something he would rather like to skip all together. 


	9. Chapter 8 John Wellington Wells

Snape swept in to the packed classroom and settled behind the top desk. As he glared down on his students with his normal look of scorn and disdain, none seemed prepare to meet his eye, except one. Seated in the first row on the Slytherin side was Draco, waiting in anticipation and glee for his own privately deduced show, and grinning a bit wider than usual.  
  
Snape's cold predatorial stare moved across the length of the room, and let it settle for a second on a pallid looking Hermione, who eluded his look altogether.  
  
"Today.. we will continue where we left off last week: your 'Fox's Clote' potion have been rising appropriately over the last few days and if you all turn to page 472 in your books, it will tell you how to add the Sicilian slug bile."  
  
~~*~~  
  
To Draco and Harry's amazement, the class went surprisingly well. Typical. Hermione suppressed the need to raise her hand at every question offered, but when asked about the curative properties of Arrow Root, she couldn't stop herself from waving her arm about vigorously, though she was in return ignored. Harry lost Gryffindor five points when he dropped his spoon and Longbottom another thirty when he spilled his whole supply of mashed badger lungs over Snape's leg. All in all, a very average day.  
  
"Lets get out of here", Ron groaned once class had come to an end, and Harry had returned from putting away his mortar and pestle.  
  
"Yea, yea", he replied indifferently, leaning towards Hermione who was packing away her supplies real slowly.  
  
"Will you be alright?" he asked carefully. She gave him a confident smile and a nod.  
  
"Good luck, huh?" Harry added squeezing her shoulder in passing and taking a stand beside Ron.  
  
"Are you coming, or what?", Ron asked Hermione impatiently, watching Snape who was flipping through some papers, and still at his desk. Hermione was still clearing away her supplies, but opened her mouth to explain, when Harry interrupted her.  
  
"Ron, lets go"  
  
Ron looked at Harry, then Hermione, then back to Harry, unsure what to make of the situation.  
  
"I have to have a talk with professor Snape.", she finally explained in a whisper.  
  
"I'll meet up with you later"  
  
"About what?", asked Ron. Harry laid a hand on his shoulder making a motion to leave.  
  
"Head girl issues" she said in a tone that offered no further elaboration, rising now to her feet with her books cradled in her arms.  
  
"Oh, rather you then me!" Ron answered, being dragged out of the room by Harry.  
  
"If we are not in the common room, we are probably upstairs!", he called, and sent her a last smile and a wink.  
  
The echo of the closed door sounded through the large stone room at their departure; she didn't know how long she stood there glaring at the old oak door, but when she turned to face Snape and his desk, she found he'd already moved away and now was standing by a side entrance, holding the door open.  
  
"This way."  
  
Swallowing hard and putting on a brave face, she hastily grabbed for her bag, and moved up to join him. She hesitated when having to pass him; a faint rise of the corner of his lip appeared as he sensed her discomfort, and saw her shuddering when she finally moved in to the narrow hallway leading to his office.  
  
It was dark and confined, and she found herself hastily moving toward the second door, being trapped by the tall mass that was him, and the tiny door at the end of the cramped pathway.  
  
"It sure is dark down here; does anybody truly know how many secret passageways there are in this castle? I am convinced that one could easily lure somebody down one of those paths, dispose of their body, and nobody would be able to find it for at least a century or so...". She was rambling, one of her many bad habits when nervous. Snape leaned in on her so that his hooked nose was just inches from her cheek, and in the faint light that escaped from the crack in the door, she could see a most vicious grin. "yes, true that!" he whispered hotly. "yes, true that!"  
  
Already having decided that she wouldn't allow him to unnerve her, she jerked around and reached for the handle, and gave it a good yank; the door would not budge.  
  
"Now, look at that, heh.. it's locked."  
  
Snape did a flamboyant hand motion, uttering the words "John Wellington Wells"; with that, the green coated door flew open. She half stumbled, half fell into the room.  
  
"John Wellington Wells?" she asked amused, once she had establish some space between herself and the potion master.  
  
"A dealer in magic and spells, In blessings and curses, And ever-filled purses, In prophecies, witches, and knells?", she continued on, knowing the verse he had taken the name from, too well.  
  
The Sorcerer, a muggle comedy Operetta that was written in 1877 about a couple getting a wizard to develop a love philter, which caused everyone in the village to fall in love -- with the wrong person, though.  
  
Snape stepped in to his office, and his presence filled the whole of the room. He replied to her with a simple but chilling "yes". Hermione backed toward the two chairs that stood before his desk, remaining standing.  
  
"Sit down", he told her curtly, shutting the door behind him, and taking a seat himself.  
  
"I didn't know you liked Gilbert and Sullivan", she tried, laying her books and bag down on the floor  
  
"Were you suppose to know?" he asked, having a by far more controlled tone and attitude then at their last conversation.  
  
"No. I mean, it is very, well, muggle like!"  
  
"Sir William was a muggle?" he challenged her  
  
She opened her mouth, trying to remember if she had read someplace about either; this interrogation wasn't helping her much to keep her nerves settled. She surrendered, deciding it was the wisest choice.  
  
"Gilbert and Sullivan were Wizards?" she tried instead.  
  
"Correction!" he replied coldly. "Sir William was a wizard, Sir Arthur was not! And 'The Sorcerer' is based on quite a famous tale. Tsk, tsk, Miss Granger, haven't you been paying attention in History of Magic? Any first year could tell you about Robert Jonathan Wells, and his execution in 1642 for his interference with the muggle world. You must be loosing your touch."  
  
Of course she knew the story; it was a well known warning to all magicians who felt temped to use their power for evil or good in the muggle world. It was obvious now, thinking about it; 'The Sorcerer', and the story had its similarities, but the wizard had always been referred to as 'Rob 'the muggle dealer' Wells'  
  
"Of course I do know the story! I just never made the connection, that's all!" she replied confidently, shuffling the chair closer to his desk.  
  
"Well, it matters not; we aren't here to discuss Victorian comedy plays".  
  
He fished out a small round shaped bottle from the depth of his drawer, and set it down between them. He held back a grin as her face changed to a lighter shade of colour.  
  
"Since it has been more then twenty four hours since we.." his dark eyes vanished viciously under his dark brow, and his lips curled in to a faint sneer "had our unfortunate copulation, I have developed a different potion. It will make certain you are not" he grinned awkwardly "pregnant".  
  
He was getting too much enjoyment out of this for her liking, but at least he didn't use the word 'fornicate'. She grimaced with an expression of clear disgust, eager to show that she was not about to become unnerved by his play on words.  
  
"Now, now, Miss Granger, you need not worry -- I am as repulsed by you, as you are of me. This situation is unfortunate indeed. I am quite certain that you spent last night contemplating our conversation and am now prepared to accept this is, as our.. mmm", his voice was silky soft and slippery, "little secret?".  
  
She gave him a quick nod. "Yes, professor Snape!"  
  
"Good, now do you have any questions, or should I begin to explain how to take this potion"  
  
"I have some questions for you professor, but first.."  
  
She reached in to her bag pulling out a minimized plastic bag with some content. Putting it on the desk and tapping it with her wand so that it returned to its rightful size, she pushed it over to him.  
  
"What is this?", he asked.  
  
"Your clothes. I transfigured the outfit back in to your sheets again -- your socks and boxer shorts are all there, too!" she said curtly. He took the bag, a finger curling over the white plastic, a substance he was only faintly familiar with.  
  
"Who is Marks and Spencer?" he asked, as he read the writing on the front of the bag.  
  
"Owners of a muggle clothes shop"  
  
"They want the bag back then."  
  
"No, not at all. They give them away for free".  
  
"ah"  
  
He dropped the bag on the floor behind him, and they stared at each other -- it was awkward, both opening their mouth to speak, but neither knowing exactly what to say next.  
  
"So, you had some questions", he reminded her.  
  
"Oh, um, yes, I have a few"  
  
"Well let us have it then. Come, come, I don't have all day". He had nearly said 'night'.  
  
She drew in a deep breath, his attentive cold black stair unnerving her almost as much as the silence of the dungeon.  
  
"I was told that somebody added some alcohol substance in the punch; is this, why we, uhm.." she couldn't say it, try as she might. She just didn't have it in her yet to look him in the eyes and accept their situation. She brought her attention to her lap and began to fiddle with the corner of her robe.  
  
"Yes", he finally replied, and she watched him as he moved back at his feet -- the seventh year was the last class of the day which entitled him to finally get a drink. He opened one of the cabinets, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, his fingers curling over a half full bottle of vodka. "Can I offer you a drink?" he asked jesting.  
  
Hermione stopped herself from saying no: she thought it over, and as far as she knew she regarded herself grown up -- she was certainly the most adult student in the school, she mused, and this was definitely an adult subject, so just for some shock value, she replied "yes, please", which caught the surprised look of the man with a confident one of her own.  
  
'Alright then' he thought, noting the irony of serving alcohol, while discussing an issue that was the result of alcohol. He fished out two glasses, and filled them both half way up with the golden liquid. He knew the risk of serving somebody under-aged, but he was certain it could not be worse than bedding a student, and she was nearly eighteen years of age. He peered back at her -- wasn't she?  
  
He handed her a glass with a faint grin to his lips, settling behind the desk. "Yes, somebody poured Vodka in the punch: some fourth years from my house - they have been disciplined. In fact I believe they are right now, collecting the rat cadavers after Filch lay out poisons last week."  
  
She wanted to point out that people might find it a tad bit suspicious that he was punishing people of his own house for once, but felt that it would be an unwise move.  
  
"I do not believe there is any evidence of our escapade, and you need not worry -- if anything does come up, I'll personally take care of it." He sipped his drink, noting that she was playing with hers, but not tasting it.  
  
Twirling the glass about in her hands, she asked, "Professor, can I ask, what exactly do you remember from that night?"  
  
He went silent, scrutinising her, and it was clear to her showing that he was not accustomed to this, an exchange of opinions. In most situations, he did the questioning, the student having the wits to answer but not to say much more; this was a different exercise for him, and he didn't like it. Yet he replied curtly, with just a hint of a sneer to his lips.  
  
"Scarcely more then you, I am afraid. Simply feeling rather dizzy, and nauseous, heading in to the hallway before it all went black..."  
  
She remembered Harry prompting her to ask him about his groin.. but suppressed the notion.  
  
"At some point I must have encountered you in the stairs, what happens from there on, I would rather not think about!" he told her in a rapid tone, sipping his drink.  
  
"What puzzles me, is our clothes."  
  
"I can explain that professor!".  
  
She hastily replied pulled out the library book from her bag, and lay it down before him.  
  
He looked bewildered "A History of Horseradish?"  
  
"Go on, open it.."  
  
"I don't see how this.."  
  
"Open it professor!"  
  
He scowled at her; a professor taking instructions from a student?!?  
  
"Please?"  
  
Drawing the book over, he flipped it open, eyes settling on the plain white pair of cotton knickers, which lay nicely pressed between the pages. He cleared his throat, and said in a dry and silky voice,  
  
"I fail to understand the significance of this!"  
  
"They are mine!" she interrupted confidently  
  
"well, that I gather"  
  
"I mean, they are mine from the other night.. just look, they have my initials and everything.."  
  
He made a faint sneer and shut the book, his long fingers fiddling over the cover.  
  
"It is quite alright, Miss Granger. I'll take your word for it, but I still fail to understand what it has to do with a book on radishes!"  
  
"It has nothing to do with the book, silly", she trailed off as sharp venomous eyes fell on her.  
  
"Uhm, professor! I was in the library, when Draco Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle came by; he said he had found this, and was asking all kinds of questions."  
  
"Malfoy had this?" Snape gave the book cover a soft caress, seeming to be confused at how this new puzzle pieces fitted into the picture. "What exactly did Mr. Malfoy have to ask you?!"  
  
"Well..", she shifted uncomfortable in her seat, eyes gliding across the ceiling. "He was wondering where I had gotten to last Saturday. Also, he was insinuating all sort of, uhm, things".  
  
He leaned across the desk, his hands clasped about the book possessively, his eyes burrowing in to hers.  
  
"Insinuating what, exactly?"  
  
"That I have had a tryst of some sort"  
  
"And he simply went up to you, waved this evidence in your face, and said this?"  
  
She nodded softly, finding her throat sore and sipping her drink for the first time, wrinkling her nose at the strong flavour.  
  
"Hmm, strange", he muttered, leaning back in his armchair, and long fingers clawing along his jaw; his attention dwelling in the mid air.  
  
She allowed some time to pass, daring not at first to intrude as he seemed deep in thought, and wasn't one who appreciated interruption.  
  
"Is something the matter professor?", she finally asked.  
  
"Well, I simply find it hard to believe that, he just *gave* you these, with his formulated opinion, and with no hidden agenda."  
  
"W.. what do you think he mean by it?"  
  
"I am not certain. He is an overindulged and spoiled imbecile, but he is still a Slytherin, and that means he wouldn't simply throw all his cards on the table -- he has some aces up his sleeve.."  
  
"I thought you liked Malfoy?", she stated bluntly before she could stop herself.  
  
"What on earth makes you think I like anybody at all", he replied flatly. "I do business with his father".  
  
She found herself temped to ask what business this was exactly, but took another sip from the whiskey instead, noticing how quickly the fluid did indeed affect her. She was as sober as ever, but felt a faint haze in the back of her cranium indicating that it wouldn't take much to tip the scale. But Snape? How much exactly would it make to have him feel even the faintest of disorientation?  
  
Snape was situated opposite her, the deep wells that represented his pupils burying themselves into her young shape, as if trying to see past her flesh and bones -- attempting to read her mind perhaps? Ron swore that he possessed such powers.  
  
Seated hunched, Hermione's arms wrapped about her shape as if in need of protection, her eyes focused on the whiskey, gazing into the crystal in a scrutinising manner. She had grown a fair bit, he noted; she wasn't the child that had been so blatantly over enthusiastic, waving her arm in the air in desperate need of attention and acknowledgment. He never humoured her like the rest of the teachers, and though she annoyed him (immensely) it was derived from other reasons than his annoyance for Potter.  
  
Potter like his father never had to do more then limited efforts to gain world wide attention. They never worked for their fame, it was simply given to them on a golden plate and they took and spoiled it like a drunken teenage given a bottle of "Château La Mondotte Saint-Emilion" he thought quietly to himself.  
  
Gritting his teeth and sipping his drink, he allowed his mind to roam, these few seconds that easily felt like hours.  
  
Hermione was hard working and well educated, true, but far too prissy and full of herself for him to show any appreciation for her efforts. She might have had a faint respect for such treatment, if she hadn't joined the Potter club, and taken part in being a torn in his side. (Which she was once again)  
  
"There is something else"  
  
Her voice interrupted his train of thoughts, and his head came to a faint tilt. He observed Hermione making a hand gesture toward the book.  
  
"Draco.. he told me where exactly he had found these"  
  
He didn't like the way she was now staring at him, he just knew this was leading up to something unpleasant.  
  
"He said he found them", she said, her cheeks flushed red, and added hastily, "In the owlery!", before she turned her attention to the floor.  
  
"The Owlery?"  
  
He couldn't help but grin at this.  
  
"How in Marlins name did it end up there?"  
  
"Well, I think he meant that we..."  
  
She shifted her shoulders, and he could see her tugging lightly at her lower lip. Disgusting habit that.  
  
"You don't imply.. no, we couldn't have.. how would we get back to my room? Marching down to the dungeon au naturel, would hardly have gone unnoticed!"  
  
He had finished his glass and was now pouring himself another; she watched him, her mouth wide open in faint astonishment -- he truly lacked all tact on the subject.  
  
"Shut your mouth girl, gasping at people is an incredibly rude habit!" he snapped, and she shut it, frowning his way, which he picked up on, but in turn didn't comment.  
  
"Well! He didn't mention finding any other garments!" she replied, her tone a tad more bitter sounding then planned.  
  
"I'll have a talk with him", he replied indifferently, corking his bottle and setting it aside. His eyes shifted to the clock on the wall.  
  
"Is that all? I have things that need doing, so if there is nothing else you have to tell me.."  
  
He stopped, and she shook her head, trying to remember if there was anything else.  
  
"Good, now. The potion."  
  
She was to take half of the contents before bedtime, as it had a tendency to make people dozy; if she began bleeding somewhere through the night or felt any form of pain in her lower regions (or the cervix, as he had put it), she was to report to him immediately. If not, she should just go about what she usually did in the morning, and take the last of it the next evening.  
  
Simple, she thought, finding herself swallowing down the last of the whiskey with an embarrassingly distorted expression on her face.  
  
"It would seem it wouldn't take too much to get you intoxicated.." he replied mockingly; she fired back with a controlled answer:  
  
"Perhaps, but what surprises me is you. After all, what is watered out vodka to a man such as yourself?"  
  
He cocked a brow, but couldn't answer. He had thought about it, but been unable to understand this part also, and he told her simply what he had told himself.  
  
"I didn't eat much that day!"  
  
In truth he had speculated that it might have been the gasses of some brewing he had done earlier, that with the effect of the alcohol could have.. but no, he was making excuses. He didn't understand it, but he wasn't about to think of it anymore, simply just to accept and let go.  
  
"Well, I should head back now.."  
  
She excused herself, moving back to her feet and stuffing the potion bottle and her books in to the bag.  
  
"Yes. I'll have a talk with Malfoy, and if nothing goes wrong with the potion.. I think this is the last time we will have to mention any of this!"  
  
She nodded curtly, pulling the bag up to her shoulder. He got up also, setting the whiskey bottle back in the cabinet, and shutting it before sweeping over to the exit, holding the door open for her.  
  
She approached it hesitantly; something was stirring in the back of her mind: questions, suggestions, but something else as well, something rather new. She stopped before him, her brown eyes focusing on the aged face of the man.  
  
"Professor.."  
  
He made a faint head motion to indicate he was listening  
  
"I just want to say thank you"  
  
His brows came to a puzzled arch, but he said nothing  
  
"Thank you for not humiliating me! I.. I just had to say that."  
  
His nose wrinkled passively at her remark, and he replied flatly.  
  
"I believe we have both been embarrassed sufficiently enough!"  
  
The corner of her mouth twisted in a smile at that, and she suppressed a chuckle.  
  
"Yes, Professor Snape."  
  
She left out the door feeling strangely better, if it were possible, at their talk, vanishing up the stairs. Snape stood in the door, and when she was at a appropriate distance, he took a glance after her before shutting the door.  
  
It could have been worse he mused, he could have awoke next to Lavender or Parvatil, or, Merlin forbid, Pansy Parkinson!. He gave a faint shudder; the last he would need was some whiny over-dramatic and hormonal teenage girl, bawling in his office threatening to tell every living thing about their night of disaster. Hermione might be a pain the arse he noted, returning to his desk, but she was mature and resourceful, occasionally. He picked up her empty glass of whiskey and grinned viciously to himself.  
  
"Occasionally"  
  
*******************  
  
ann no aku: Hey, that is nifty to hear, I know my humour is very dark, and very personal so I wonder sometimes if people still catches the very subtle humour or of it has become Drama/angst. I am glad there are people out there who still find it amusing, I am having a laugh writing it *smiles*  
  
Liesel: I made chapter 7 a few days after chapter 6 and I sent it off to my beta reader, assuming she got it. A week went by and she didn't reply back so I got curious of what had happened to it, then I found out that she had never gotten my email, so I sent it again, and she beta it the same day and I posted it. The idea was, shorter chapter, would make me update it more often.  
  
And for Pride and Prejudice, yes, I added that sentence in purposely, and I planned to ask people if they could recognise where I had taken the quote from, but I was to happy to update the chapter to have time to write any notes at the bottom. What do you mean with My Fair lady?  
  
Kerbi: You are not the only one to say that. I am glad you like it *smiles*  
  
AppleJuiceMaster: Updating, updating *smiles* I have nothing bad to say about my very impressive beta reader that makes a really good job of it, but she does use a week to correct it, so wile I send her a new chapter about two days after last time I updated, she return it five to seven days later.  
  
Bre: *blush*  
  
Marston Chicklet: ho ho ho  
  
Trixooo: Tadaa, it is here  
  
The great sex god: Well, it is a Snape Hermione pairing, so don't worry *laughs* I just like to think that most men are capable of getting laid, if they really want to. I know a lot of people write Snape as this virgin, and some make good stories of it, interesting concept, but I like to think Snape capable of at least getting a one night stand when making the effort.  
  
He is a sneaky Slythin after all  
  
I got this wonderful email from Lionora, and I just want to say thank you for it really cheered me up. Sometimes I am not sure about my story and I feel like quitting and then I get lovely comments like hers, and I get all happy, and I smile all day, and I get really creative and starts writing like mad.  
  
I know the story is running a bit dry right now, but something different and exciting is coming up, I just have to get through this little Passover stage, please don't give up on my story, something unexpected is coming, and a new storyline will appear.  
  
I promise *smiles* 


	10. Chapter 9 Mafoy’s confession

Hermione was surprised to find the boys occupying their time with homework for once, and so upon entering she simply dropped her bags down on the floor and settled in one of the guest chairs scattered about the room. The seventh years shared their quarters with only one other and two rooms shared a bathroom with a tub.  
  
"I see you are still alive", Ron commented, copying down some notes about Mooncalf, an intensely shy creature, on to a scroll of parchment.  
  
"How many points did he manage to take from us this time?"  
  
"None, thank you very much!", she replied confidently, pulling out her own notes that she had scribbled down about the potion.  
  
Harry looked up from his own books and smiled, sipping a glass of water; she returned the smile -- again, Ron didn't seem to notice their subtle exchange.  
  
"You know 'Mione, when it comes to Snape, you must have a real way with him.." Ron stated with a laugh. Hermione's head jerked up, and Harry nearly choked on his drink and ended spitting it out across his papers.  
  
"Are you okay Harry?",  
  
Hermione rushed over to his side; Ron staring at the soaked homework with a baffled expression.  
  
"Blimey!", he exclaimed.  
  
"Y.. yes, I am fine", he reassured her, waving a wet hand at the desk. "But look at my papers!"  
  
"Oh that's easy", she grinned, flipping her wand out and doing a simple refreshment spell.  
  
"What's with you!" Ron asked, his suspicious eyes shifting between the two.  
  
"I must have choked on something..", Harry reassured him, pushing away Hermione who was wiping at his robes with a rag. Ron settled with this notion, but didn't stop glaring at the pair in wonder.  
  
Hermione leaned in on Harry and whispered, "Do you think I could have a word with you, about", she looked over at Ron who was still staring at them, his brow arching, "you know". Harry looked at Ron then back at her, and he gave a faint nod, rising to his feet. Ron watched them quizzically as they departed to the hallway.  
  
"Are you going to tell Ron or what?", he asked her once they were outside. Hermione leaned up against the wall and avoiding his stern look.  
  
"Maybe.. but not yet, I am worried how he will act, and.. I don't really want too many people to know", she shifted her shoulders uncomfortably; "besides I promised.."  
  
Harry threw his arms in the air and rotated his torso in frustration.  
  
"Forget the dumb promise! You should tell somebody, tell McGonagall, she will know what to do".  
  
"What ever for.." she protested irritated; she was not about to engage in another debate, and so crossed both arms across her chest frowning.  
  
"I don't know -- it is just wrong.."  
  
He wrinkled his nose in disgust, unable to express the very valid reason running through him mind. Snape had.. violated her -- he couldn't quite come to term with it -- it was just *not right*, not acceptable. Either he must have known or there had to be something awfully wrong here. He shrugged, and took his glasses off, wiping them with his sleeve.  
  
"I am sorry 'Mione, it is just.. he is just, I mean, Snape is so.. so.. disgusting and I can't believe that he.. that you and him.."  
  
"yes.. YES.." she bellowed. "I know, and believe me, I am not exactly thrilled about it either, but as I have said over and over again, there is next to nothing I can do about it, and I would rather forget and move on; after all, it is not like I remember anything".  
  
"I suppose.." he mumbled, and kicked the stone floor absently.  
  
"Soo.. uhm, how did it go, with you and Professor Snape? Did he really give you that.. potion of his?"  
  
She nodded quietly and went in to lengthy description of their conversation: Draco, and the directions for taking the potion. Harry remained quiet, glaring mostly at the floor, and snorting when he heard that Snape was going to have a chat with Malfoy.  
  
"I better return to my room now, I have to finish my essay for my History of Magic class, and we have only eleven days left!" she told him, and Harry made a weak grin, placing a light hand on her shoulder.  
  
"You take care, okay?". She smiled pleasantly, and in the spirit of the moment she leaned in to hug him.  
  
Harry felt rigid under her touch; she knew he wasn't accustomed to physical affection, and he awkwardly laid his stiff arms around her, his chest hard against her soft cheek.  
  
"So, that's what you two are up to.. huh"  
  
The voice belonged to Ron; he stood in the door and watched the embracing couple, Hermione instantly pulling away and straightening her robes.  
  
"I better go now..", she whispered to Harry. "See you later Ron..", she chirped the redhead's way before rushing up the winding stairs leading to her private domain.  
  
"I knew somethin' like this was happenin'" Ron told Harry in a sulky tone as the boy pressed past him in to the room, not bothering to meet his eye.  
  
"Why couldn't you just tell me, I mean, I was wondering why you two were so secretive all of a sudden.."  
  
"Tell you what?" Harry asked puzzled, gathering his scrolls and throwing them in to a drawer.  
  
"That you fancy Hermione!" Ron said gloomily, his chin lowering toward the desk. "I mean, it is not like I couldn't have guessed.."  
  
Harry laughed brightly.  
  
"I fancy Hermione?" he shook his head. "Nah.. I don't fancy her. I don't think", he hesitated, "that she likes me that way either." For a moment he seemed a bit uncertain.  
  
"Yea?" Ron was glaring up at him wide eyed. "But I thought, uhm, why all the sneaking about then? And what was that in the hall?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
"Oh she is just going through a bad patch", Harry reassured him "She will probably get around to tell you all about it later. You know Hermione, she likes to have her secrets until everything is solved, and then she never stops bragging about it." He chuckled.  
  
"I suppose so..". Ron scratched his head, a wide smile creeping across his lips. "She is funny isn't she.." he had that look he only held when raving about Hannah Abbott, and Harry settled down on the bed to write Sirius Black a letter.  
  
"If you say so Ron" Harry murmured..  
  
**@**  
  
Hermione was flipping through the Daily Telegraph. It was a nice change from reading magazines such as Glamour or Cosmopolitan, which was her usual bed time habit. She wasn't much in to the fashion, but some of the articles amused her, and though they splashed articles about sex on every third page, she didn't mind reading about the subject in moderation. She was a teenage girl with a natural curiosity for it, but currently she was living very much in denial. Every time somebody even as much as mentioned anything sex-related, an image of Snape flashed in her mind and she shuddered and winced in an attempt to block it out.  
  
She threw the paper aside and got dressed in her comfortable blue pyjamas with an Eeyore print on the front. Childish one would say, but Eeyore amused her, and the pyjamas were made from a comfy fabric. She fished out the bottle with the potion inside from out of her bag, measured out half the contents, and swallowed it down before sneaking under the soft covers of her bed.  
  
**@**  
  
Hermione awoke the next day feeling a bit hung over; and when going for a pee, she felt a stab of pain followed with a sore sensation between her legs. Snape had been very specific in his words: 'any discomforts, come see me immediately', but this was the only day of the week they didn't have potion classes, and though it was uncomfortable, she wasn't certain if it was uncomfortable enough for her to willingly go and see him when she really had no need to.  
  
Packing her things, she went to Transfiguration class.  
  
**@**  
  
It was the shortest working day of the week for Snape, since he only had the first years, and a double potions class with the fourth years. Now that the seventh year class had ended, he bade Draco to enter his office.  
  
"You asked for me Professor.."  
  
"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy, do take a seat.", Snape asked him, in a detached voice, gathering his papers and stuffing them in to a leather folder which he set down at the foot of his desk. Draco moved over and settled, holding an air of clear confidence.  
  
"How is Lucius, well I hope?", Snape began, keeping his tone casual, distracting himself by throwing a few crumpled pieces of scroll into a basket, which flamed up with blue flames as the paper hit it.  
  
"My father is well, busy with the ministry as always, trying to win back the confidence of those paranoid fools who assume that every pureblood family is naturally involved with the dark lord.", he snickered, leaning back nonchalantly in the hard wood chair, one leg crossing elegantly over the other.  
  
"Indeed", Snape murmured, folding his hands on the desk.  
  
"I am amazed that they still allow him to continue with his job, considering all the accusations made toward him."  
  
Draco let out a loud snort "They have no evidence..", he told the man, his nostrils flaring as he drew in the spicy air of the office.  
  
"Yes, so I read". A faint grin developed on the sallow face of the man. "Remarkable that the only person willing to testify, has just suddenly committed suicide.. slit his own wrist wasn't it? Nasty business that.."  
  
Draco laughed. "What did you expect? The man just had to be a lunatic.."  
  
"Oh yes.." his lips stretched in to a narrow smile, and Draco returned it.  
  
"Now Professor, don't tell me you called for me so urgently simply to ask the well-being of my father", he stated flatly, his head swung back with the curtain of wavy bleached hair hanging down the length of his skinny neck.  
  
"No.. I did not", he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "It is a rather silly matter I have to discuss with you".  
  
"Oh?", Draco asked, amused, and then cocked his head.  
  
"What ever have I done now?"  
  
"The Granger girl, you have been tormenting her".  
  
"Oh that.." Draco chuckled, and swung both arms in the air, before saying in a surrendering tone "Guilty as charged."  
  
"Tell me what happened, then."  
  
For a few seconds, there was a silence in the room as the pale blue of Draco's eyes connected with the black of Snape's. The older man remained unmoved, and as the intensity of his stare burned itself into Draco, the boy became increasingly uncomfortable and began shifting in his seat, switching his attention to the ceiling before replying in a lordly tone of voice:  
  
"What can I tell you Professor, Hermione Granger is nothing but a common slapper", Draco sniggered to himself; but turned puzzled when the Professor scowled at him.  
  
"I do not approve of such language, Mr. Malfoy", Snape growled threateningly, leaning forward in his seat.  
  
"Oh please professor, you yourself have said the mudblood women lack both manners and proper breeding."  
  
"Mr.Malfoy, I am warning you!", he snarled.  
  
Draco did his best to seem untouched by Snape's intimidating posture but as their eyes met, he instinctively guided them to the floorboards and cleared his throat.  
  
"I am sorry", he replied, his voice dripping with insincerity.  
  
"Just tell me what happened..", he spat impatiently.  
  
Draco looked up, the slick smile returning.  
  
"Oh, it is such an amusing story, professor..", Draco explained "On the night of Halloween I was witness to a drunken Granger stumbling about the halls -- she was completely pissed--" a most irritating snigger escaped the flamboyant mans slender throat, "and though I was tempted to follow her, I was unfortunately called back inside, a bit reluctantly I have to admit". He shook his head.  
  
"But you can just imagine my surprise when, the first thing next morning, I went to the owlery and discovered a most intriguing garment. A pair of white knickers with -her- initials sewn in to the waistband, -- I mean how many H.G.'s are there at this school after all, and compulsive enough to sew their name in their underwear", he explained, licking his lips. "I just had confront her to see if my assumptions were correct and by the startled expression on her face I am certain to say that is so"  
  
"Mm.. fascinating" Snape replied sarcastically, finding this an utter waste of his time. Draco however wasn't put off by this.  
  
"I wonder..", a bony finger tapped the chin, "It might be some mud .. ehem.. muggle custom I am not familiar with, removing one's undergarments while sending off mail", he said in an amused tone, pondering.  
  
"Unless of course.", pale blue eyes searched the rigid face of the man; in normal circumstances Snape would have dismissed the student by now, but he was listening attentively to each word the boy uttered, "do you think she went to meet somebody there? A suitor perhaps? Oh wouldn't that be just be a riot, I wonder who it could have been, Potty? Weasel? Both perhaps?" He was giggling and sniggering away like a school girl, shuddering in delight and causing in Snape a rather violent need to vomit.  
  
"It interest me not!" he growled, "you can run along now Malfoy, I have work to do" he waved a hand dismissively at the boy.  
  
Draco hesitantly uncrossed his legs and rose to his feet, a disgustingly chirpy grin on his skinny face.  
  
"Well you must admit it is amusing..", Draco said reaching for the door handle, "actually I have my suspicions of who it could have been, as you see her knickers weren't the only", his head turned slowly in direction of Snape, and his expression had shifted to one with a far more vicious smile. "Ones I found", he sniggered again, "Professor Snape".  
  
With a swish of a wand the doorhandle was ripped out of Draco's hand and the door slammed shut with the sound of the locks clicking.  
  
"Sit down!", Snape thundered, eyes ablaze.  
  
********  
  
Finally it is here, the next chapter, and think I finished writing this.. *thinks back* over a week ago now, my beta reader is good but slow. *smiles*  
  
AppleJuiceMaster: you have been reviewing my story since chapter one.. wow *hugs* thank you ever so much, your kind words has helped a lot on encouraging me to continue, I wouldn't want to stop writing knowing I got people as yourself that waits week after week for my small attempt at typing.  
  
Red: Wow, that is just about the best compliment a Potter writer can get. Sometimes I forget why I wrote this in the first place, why I have dedicated myself to typing a story about how Snape would react if waking up in bed with a student. It must have been late at night.  
  
Andufeniel: I am glad I make you laugh, I will add more humour in future chapter, currently it is very subtle.. (I hope it isn't too subtle so only I get it)  
  
Penultimate Pentippelpus: I don't think I can pronounce your nick.. *laughs* First of all, I am embarrassed to admit, I didn't really do so well when studying English in High school. I think my final mark was 3.. (out of 6) but this is a way for me to learn.. writing stories, reading books.. etc etc. Secondly, I get very happy when people tell me that my characters are in character, I struggle a good deal, but I must be doing something right eh? I miss Norway *sigh* yes, Norwegian is my first language, I am a Oslo girl. A pairing.. I will not comment on that.. hehehe *grin* but I don't like writing about very dramatic girls, I feel like writing in random characters to slap them and tell them to snap out of it. I probably wouldn't act so well if I awoke up next to somebody like Snape either, but it is Hermione we are talking about and she is a very special girl indeed.  
  
JeanB: Okay, okay, I wont quit, you convinced me *laughs* more Potter Weasel stuff coming up.. at least for the next two chapters..  
  
Cassandra: Thank you! *hugs* *Goes on*  
  
PatsySO: Oh yes, I have something very wicket planned for Malfoy.. but I wont say anything more about that..  
  
Marston Chicklet: *giggles, chuckles and snorts* uhm.. I think so..  
  
Crystalline Lily: Well, it is kind of a Draco Herm thing, though more back stabbing then smooching.. I am glad that my twisted interests appeals to you *smiles*  
  
Trixooo: My first language is Norway, and France is a nifty place. I don't know all the words I uses when I first come across then, but then I look it up, and learn.. so, I know what you mean. There will be more, oh next? Snape will discover his feminine side and come to fall in love with the colour pink wile Draco ends up marring Harry and Hermione joins a monastery. Oh damn.. did I just spoil my plot line? And Snape is amazing.  
  
Some people email me..  
  
Lionora sends me just about the nicest Emails I can possible get. I must have read it 3 times and showed it off to two friends, this is how happy her words made me. I wouldn't want to give up on my story as long as she finds it amusing; writing should be your own reward, but if I only had one other person reading it I would still be posting it, for that person, and Lionora makes me want to continue with the story to the very end. Of all the nice things she said the one thing that had me laughing was that she now was going to find out what Gilbert and Sullivan was, now that made me smile. *hugs* thank you girl, you make me a very humble and happy author.  
  
Jessica wrote me because she couldn't get on FF.net to review, but I do appreciate her making the effort to tell she likes it. Thank you ever so much for your kind words Jessica, and WIKTT rules ;)  
  
Susan: Look it is now updated!!! Finally!!  
  
Bettina: I am glad you love my Snape, I love my Snape too.. and the relationship between Snape and Hermione will soon take a sharp turn for the.. *cough*  
  
Abbi: *hugs* thank you dear, every kind word makes me blush and smile.  
  
THERE Phew.. I am aware I repeated myself a lot, but I think that was all? Yes? If I have forgotten anybody, I am every so sorry!  
  
Next chapter nearly done and now it is starting to get interesting, so stay tuned ;)  
  
Oh and Pissed is British for "Drunk"  
  
*hugs* 


	11. Chapter 10 The potion

Draco returned to his chair, hunching forward with both elbows resting on his spread knees.  
  
"What do you want..", Snape murmured softly, his charcoal black eyes gleamed from the depth of their dark sockets.  
  
"Want?" Draco asked puzzled. "I don't quite understand what you-"  
  
"You are attempting to defeat a man at his own game, boy", Snape sneered. "Just tell me what exactly you've found and your price."  
  
For a passing second, they simply sat there staring at each other, Draco amused by the outcome and pondering a humorous reply which would leave Snape uncertain of his accusation; but the intimidating look of the older man made him wonder if he was in risk of taking this a tad bit too far -- so he leaned back in the chair, nodding.  
  
"Well, lets just say your assumptions *are* correct".  
  
Draco sniggered at that, and his hand swung down the back of the chair as he shifted his weight on to his left.  
  
"Well, I found a large pair of indigo boxers - too big to belong to a student", he explained, "which leads me to ask, for I truly can't help myself, professor - Why? What in marlin's name compelled you to", he stopped to laugh, "shag a filthy hussy like that Granger girl?." Snape scowled at him. "I am certain a man as yourself are capable of finding better wenches"  
  
"That, is none of your business! And I will thank you to find less crude ways to express yourself", he replied, his eyes glittering with menace. "Use your wits, boy, you do not want me as your enemy. Now, I suggest you tell me what you want before I lose my patience."  
  
Draco snickered and smiled but gave a firm nod. "Oh, Professor, it is hard -- like having free rein in a toy store, you know? So difficult to decide, to just pick -one-"  
  
"I do not appreciate being blackmailed! Lay down your price and get out", he growled in a controlled but threatening tone, watching the smug looking boy enjoy this limited power he was offered, clawing at his bony chin, and shuddering in delight.  
  
Snape didn't in most circumstances accept blackmail -- he knew he had enough on both Draco and his father to threaten him in return, and more importantly, Draco was aware of this. Snape could always owl Lucius Malfoy to solve the issue, but that would lead to more complications, and simply take too much time with far too many uncomfortable questions to be answered. Both being Slytherins, they knew the game very well indeed, and he drew the line at becoming a plaything for Draco's amusement. Best to get the deal over and done with straight away, so it all could come to a 'pain free' end; this issue had affected him far too long, for his liking.  
  
"My marks are decent enough..", Draco suddenly said, interrupting Snape's train of thought. "Mmm, maybe Potter's head on a plate? Seeing him failing his classes, would be such a delight, or better -- expelled!" Now the boy's eyes were gleaming with pleasure.  
  
"Don't be ludicrous; if I had the authority to rid the school of Potter, he would have been gone before the end of his first year."  
  
Draco wobbled his head left and right contemplating this fact, before a most hideous smirk shifted across his bony face.  
  
"Then I want a show", he spoke softly, leaning over the desk.  
  
A show?", Snape asked, rising a brow..  
  
"Oh yes, a little entertainment to liven up your oh-so thrilling class.."  
  
"What in Merlin's name are you going on about?!"  
  
"Granger, I want to see her humiliated!", Draco continued in the silky soft whisper, grinning like a madman.  
  
Snape gave a snort. "And you don't think I am doing a sufficient job of that already?"  
  
"Well professor, though it is, mm, *entertaining*, I wondered if you could liven it up for me, just once. It is but a small request, but all I desire for the time being -- I want to see Granger cry!"  
  
Driven by boredom, Draco was determined to get his show, even if he had to threaten Snape into performing; to his dismay though, Snape had flatly rejected his offer and threatened to take it up with his father instead, refusing to be made a mockery of. Draco had carefully informed him that with his father in the ministry, Snape should instead worry about Lucius discovering the truth, since it could cost him a bit more then some self- respect.  
  
All in all, Snape had bellowed that he wanted the boy out of his office immediately, and elegantly Draco had gotten up to leave, giving the man to the end of the week to please him or the evidence would fall in to more willing hands.  
  
**@**  
  
Hermione stood in the centre of her bedroom, playing an old vinyl of 'The Sorcerer' that she had come across wile scavenging through some second-hand shops in her neighbourhood. Ron was glaring at Harry with a confused expression  
  
"Do you like it?", Hermione asked, waving a finger in mid air like a conductor, "It was written in 1877, it is all about this clergyman, that gets convinced that in marriage lies the secret of human bliss, and orders a love-potion to be made from a real wizard of the time. He serves it to the whole of the village, but everybody falls passionately in love with the wrong person, and the moral of the story is that nature is better then science at choosing and predicting the right partner" she explained, swaying her hips back and forth to the music.  
  
"Right..", Ron said, utterly uninterested and eager to get up. Both boys were used to her lecturing them on various subjects, school related, or not, and had come to learn that it was less painful and by far more effective to just make their excuses and leave.  
  
"What about you Harry?", she asked. The boy who had occupied himself by looking at the Quidditch pitch which was currently soaked through with rain, shook his shoulders indifferently.  
  
"I have heard it before, Aunt Petunia is an huge fan of Gilbert and Sullivan -- she even wants Dudley to perform in the local amateur group". He smiled impishly; "I wonder what she would say if I told her that Gilbert was really a wizard!"  
  
"Well I think the woman sounds like a shrieking Banshee to me!", Ron snorted with amusement. "Do they have to howl like that to each other, or is one of the characters deaf?"  
  
Hermione frowned at Ron. "Well, you should try to get an appreciation for the finer arts", she preached, "even Professor Snape happens to think it is good".  
  
Harry jerked around at this, but Ron was the first to speak  
  
"Oh he does, does he? Well yet another reason why I don't plan to stick about and listen to this rubbish", he replied grouchy. "I am hungry, going down to the kitchen to get a bite, can I bring you anything?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, "Bed time, and it should be for you two, also! We have an early class tomorrow!"  
  
"Sure", he replied indifferently.. "Coming Harry?"  
  
Harry seemed hesitant; he wanted to ask Hermione about the connection between her sudden interest in 'The Sorcerer' and Snape, but couldn't come up with the appropriate question -- so he said good night, and with Ron in the lead, both boys trotted out of her room.  
  
With the boys gone, she put the record away, cleared her desk and prepared her school bags for tomorrow. Her first lesson was 'Care of Magical Creatures' with Hagrid, so she knew she would need to carve her initials in to a cucumber for their lesson on Kappas. It was a highly dangerous Japanese water demon, and who would possibly want one as a pet, she couldn't imagine; but Hagrid never seemed to teach them about creatures that any other than he would consider owning.. She also had her suspicions on how one had 'accidentally' appeared in the school pond, just days before their first lesson.  
  
As she stood there carving over her bathroom sink, she couldn't help but look up and in to the mirror smiling to herself, noticing how for the first day since that unfortunate event, nothing related with night of Halloween had come up. "It is going to be alright..", she told her reflection in a half whisper; "of course it will, dear", replied the enchanted mirror. "After tonight, there will be no more issues involving last Saturday", she said more confidently; "I am certain there won't, dear", answered the mirror in its normal cheerful voice. And so she dropped the cucumber scrapings into the bin under the sink, got the remaining potion out, and prepared for bed.  
  
**@**  
  
It was nearly two o'clock at night when she awoke abruptly with a desperate need to visit the toilet. She felt unusually sore between her legs, more so then she had the morning before, and she rolled out of bed and rushed in to the small bathroom. She felt no relief; instead a most agonising pain came over her as she sat there, and as she pulled her knickers and pyjama trousers up, she noticed that the urine was clear as water, hazy in colour and had a strong yeast like stench. She flushed and pulled herself into her room, leaning against the wall as each movement she made seemed to contribute to the increasing pain.  
  
Along with a most horrendous stomach cramp, which caused her to crouch forward and clutch her abdomen, she felt bruised, cut, on the inside, near her cervix, which burned and stung with repetitive stabs of pain that increased when attempting to move her legs.  
  
"It hurts!" she cried to the air, a hand clasping around her privates sinking to the floor, "Oh god, it hurt!" she twitching wile again she was overwhelmed with a stab of intense agony. She needed help; in desperation, despite each motion felling like a lick of flames up between her legs, she still manoeuvred toward the door, stumbling and half sliding down the staircase that wound past the boy's accommodation.  
  
Leaning on the door to Harry and Ron's room, she knocked firmly while resting against the wall, building up the strength to continue. She got no reply, so she turned the handle and stumbled in, standing in the middle of the room, twitching.  
  
"Help me, please.. I.. hurt.. so.. much", she cried.  
  
Ron had already awoken from noise of the door being brutally slammed open, and squinted in the dark, recognising her as she stood in the dim light from the enchanted torches in the hallway.  
  
"Hermione?", he asked, "is that you?". Harry had awoken now as well, and he sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses.  
  
"I am in *so much* pain", she whimpered, sinking to her knees, clutching the lower part of her stomach.  
  
"What happened..", Ron leaped along with Harry out of bed and over to her side  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"The.. potion, it has to be the potion..", she whispered, before twitching and letting out another aggravating cry, overwhelmed by another shot of pain.  
  
"What potion?!" asked Ron, but Harry pressed past him; "where does it hurt?", he questioned calmly, crouching down before her. Lightly embarrassed she looked the boy in the eyes and said in a controlled voice, trembling with pain.  
  
"My vagina, it burns", her eyes squeezed shut, and she made a quiet gasp: "it hurts.. a.. l.. lot"  
  
"Ah..", Harry cleared his throat. Ron stepped in; "what POTION!?"  
  
"It is something Snape gave her!", he half snapped at Ron irritated, before he turned to Hermione who was in convulsions. "Should I get Madam Pomfrey?",  
  
"Snape? What did he give her? What is going on here?!?!" Ron protested, quite distorted and furious, balling his fists.  
  
Hermione still trembling and opening her mouth to let out another gasp, whimpered in a voice hardly audible: "n.. no, take me to Snape.."  
  
"Are you sure.. I think Madam Pomfry should kno-"  
  
"PLEASE! Take me to Snape!" Hermione cried, her words emphasised by her agony. Both boys glared at her in shock.  
  
Harry turned to Ron, who stood dumbstruck, watching the two. Contemplating this, he shifted his gaze from the redhead to the suffering girl, before uttering a surrendering sigh; he nodded his head softly and said, "All right.. if you think it is best."  
  
He rose to his feet and collected his wand from his bedside table, and pointed it at her.  
  
"Harry..-?" Hermione whimpered, but before she finished the sentence she had been hit by a sleep charm, and fell against the hard wood floor with a soft thud.  
  
"Why did you do that for?", asked Ron, confused, as he moved over to straighten out her head and limbs from their uncomfortable positions.  
  
"We can't get her down to the dungeon unseen in the stage she is currently in", he replied, walking to his wardrobe to collect a set of robes. "We would wake the whole castle!!"  
  
"You are not seriously considering taking her to Snape, are you?"  
  
Ron lifted her head into his lap, and brushed a few strands of cinnamon brown hair from her sweaty forehead. "What did he do to her?"  
  
He stroke her temple gently; "I have never seen her like this before.."  
  
"Listen Ron, I will tell you all about it later, but now we really have to hurry..", he replied, buttoning up his robe and giving the redhead a puzzled look at the way he was stroking her.  
  
Ron peered up at him with a firm expression. "I want to know Harry! I am bloody tired of the two of you sneakin' about with your secrets! I am not goin' anywhere until you tell me exactly what has happend to 'er!". He lay her head gently down on the floor and got up, facing Harry with his arms crossed before his chest.  
  
"We don't have time, Ron! It is a long story, I'll tell you all about it later, I promise!", said Harry impatiently, fetching his invisibility cloak from the bottom of his bed chest. "Now we must get her to Snape! We don't know how bad this really is." He threw the charmed cloak down. "Here.. cover her."  
  
A reluctant Ron wrapped the cloak about her small figure, and got dressed. Running ahead as he had done so often in the past with the Marauder's Map, he made certain the coast was clear for Harry, and for Hermione who was currently under a Mobilicorpus spell, to make their way down the many stairs to the basement of the castle. Luckily, Filch and Mrs. Norris remained in their office, not seeming to stir, until they reached the door of Snape's private sleeping quarters.  
  
Ron gave the door a firm knock.  
  
***  
  
Finally I have come to a part that will be fun to write.. *yawn* I am very sleepy  
  
dedbabydoll: A slapper is British for slut/tart slapper as in.. a person that gets slapped a lot between her legs with other peoples hips to be a bit more specific.  
  
sweetpea: that you, I am going to post shorter chapters in the future and hopefully it will mean I can update sooner..  
  
tropix: Well yes.. she might take her time, but I do give her very long chapters, most of them are around 6 pages long..  
  
Penultimate Pentippelpus: Takk skal du ha, jeg tror det ikke er mange gutter der ute some skriver Snape/Hermione fortellinger.  
  
(Thank you very much, I don't think there are many boys out there that write Snape/Hermione stories)  
  
I seem to get mostly people with English as a second language reading my story.. hmm that is nifty though *smiles*  
  
Hopefully my English will get better now that I am starting to write about stuff I actually find fun.. 


	12. Chapter 11 Ron's discovery

Nobody could remember how long Ron had been hammering on Snape's door before they heard some sign of movement. A voice bellowed from the inside:  
  
"Who dares to awaken me! This had better be important!"  
  
The door was wrenched open with immense force and a lethal looking Snape stood in the entrance dressed in a long grey night shirt, glaring down at the two boys with the poisoned look of a madman.  
  
"WHAT??", he shouted at the trio, before realizing who he was talking to. "You two?!?!", he croaked, in bewilderment.  
  
"YOU two are the ones who dare to knock at this ungodly hour?!"  
  
He was spitting through his yellow teeth, attempting to control the fury that was building up, and beginning to make it presence known by the increasing reddish hue of his face.  
  
If they had seen a sallow looking Snape in the past, it held little comparison to one that was sleep deprived. Blood shot eyes that barely seemed to be held open squinted down at the two, and his greasy hair hung uncombed and messy down his hard boned features. They had an almost skull- like appearance in the light of the enchanted torches that had broken into flame as the group had passed them as they travelled down the narrow dungeon passageway  
  
"Professor", Ron attempted, watching Snape's fists clenching. "I.. we.. uhm..", Snape seemed prepared to advance on him, allowing them just seconds to make their excuses; Harry saving Ron the trouble by grabbing the corner of the invisibility cloak, revealing the paralyzed body of Hermione.  
  
Snape's coal black eyes shifted along the length of the girl before settling on Harry, puzzled..  
  
"Professor..!" Harry stated firmly, "We need your help!"  
  
**@** With Harry doing most of the explaining, Ron carried Hermione carefully inside, cradling her in his strong arms, looking anxiously down at her cold expression.  
  
"..that is what she said, Professor..", Harry finished, shutting the door behind him. "It was the potion you had given her -- she seemed in a lot of pain"  
  
"I see" Snape murmured, deep in thought. "Well.. drop her on the bed, and I'll have a look at her..", he stated indifferently, waving a hand toward his large four poster, before turning toward his dresser to collect his wand.  
  
Harry froze on the spot. "Your bed?", he hissed, glaring in its direction. "You've got to be taking the piss!", he blurted before his wit caught up with what he was saying  
  
"I beg your pardon?!" Snape twirled on the spot, his wand in hand.  
  
"I mean professor, uh--" He found himself lost for words; Harry had known Snape long enough to not intimidated by his presence, but at this point the lump in his throat sat firmly. "It is just that.. well..", he looked about the room desperately -- there was no sofa, just a set of large arm chairs. "Isn't there somewhere else we can put her?"  
  
Snape was taking gentle steps, approaching the boy with a look of suspicion "Why?", he asked in a silky soft tone, his voice a striking resemblance to that of a snake's hiss.  
  
The black eyes gleamed in their deep sockets by the randomly lit candles; Harry found himself instinctively shifting his gaze away, down to the cold floorboards, his mind rushing.  
  
"Don't you have someplace a bit more practical, a sofa, or a large table perhaps.." It was a weak excuse, and he knew it, but he was quite pleased with the confident tone of his voice.  
  
"No", Snape replied flatly, and before he had a chance to making an issue of it, Ron had taken the hint and laid her gently down on his dark green satin covers of his bed. Ron shifted her limbs and head to make certain she was comfortable, stroking a few strands of hair from her slumbering face. "Hush now, all will be alright", he whispered.  
  
Snape pushed Ron roughly aside and opened her eyelids. With the tip of his wand glowing in the dim lit room, he studied the reaction of her pupils enlarging and shrinking at the light, or lack thereof. Harry watched him attentively along with Ron, who was close at his side. Snape's long fingers touched her throat to feel for her pulse, and peered up at the silenced watch on his wall.  
  
"Is she pregnant?", Harry asked, unable to hold back the question anymore. He could see the potion master's back go rigid, and with a look of condemnation, he glared at the two, taking in the size of Harry.  
  
As he had suspected, she had told them. He didn't know who he wanted to slap the most, Hermione or Harry, perhaps he could just kill the lot of them, including Malfoy, he mused. If 4 kids just 'disappeared' who would really notice? Well, everybody of course, Harry was Barty Crouch's own mascot, and would cause the whole ministry to comb through of the castle, on their bare knees and with toothbrushes in search of his puny body.  
  
"No.." he sneered irritated, he had to deal with her first, then he could take care of the boys "..she got an allergic reaction to the potion!" he told him, in hope that this would satisfy his curiosity. "But I greatly doubt she is with child"  
  
A paralyzed Ron was glaring at Harry.  
  
"Pregnant?" he spat, dumbfounded. "She is *pregnant*? B.. b. but with who? Who has she been..", he lowered his voice and twisted his head closer to Harry to ask in an embarrassed whisper, "who has she been sleepin' with?"  
  
Harry told Ron to be quiet, but this time the redhead didn't accept his promises of 'later'. "I want to know!! Tell me -- who has gotten her pregnant! Tell me Harry, I want to know, NOW!", he half shouted, causing Snape to look over his shoulder at the pair.  
  
Harry surrendered, Ron basically knew most of it already, there was little for him to add, so with some reluctance, he guided Ron over to the door and began explaining the situation.  
  
Snape was ignoring the two energetic boys for now, but contemplated telling them to leave once he had established the seriousness of her situation. She looked different, he mused, lying unconscious on his sheets. She was still, and quiet; he stifled a chuckle --'quiet'-- that was what was uncommon. He could ask her any question potion related or not, and she wouldn't as much as utter the weakest of replies. He smirked to himself; she almost looked dead.  
  
He lifted up the pyjama top, just enough to expose he stomach. She felt strangely hot and smooth to the touch, her skin firm and youthful. He put pressure on various parts of her abdomen, to feel for any growths. He had no medical degree or experience, he knew, but his specialisation in poisons, and potion related symptoms showed him exactly what he needed to ascertain. She felt fine, so he simply needed to see if she had been bleeding, before he could concoct the appropriate antidote. Her purple pyjama trousers seemed clean enough, but just to be on the safe side he undid the string that kept it up, and pulled it down to about her knees.  
  
Her pants seemed fairly clean also, he noted. Concentrating on being a professional, he slipped his hand down the inside of her thigh to spread her legs aside. He confimed that yes, she was fairly clean.  
  
"You fucking basterd!" a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and twirled him forcefully around.  
  
"Get your filthy hands off her!", Ron shouted. Before he had a chance to react, a punch hit him right across his face, and he stumbled back and on top of Hermione, his lips stained with the blood of his bruised nose.  
  
A second blow to his jaw, and his head rung with a stinging pain, making him quite too disoriented to establish what was happening.  
  
"Alright, that is quite enough!", Harry shouted, grabbing Ron's right arm before he had a third go. Ron continued to hit at the professor clumsily with his left, aiming at his chest this time, but they were soft in comparisons, and the furious redhead now turned to face Harry. He pushed his friend forcefully off him. "Get off!", he growled, stumbling a few feet away from both of them, his face a scarlet red his eyes shining with insanity.  
  
"If only I had my wand!", he threatened, "I am goin' to go straight to Dumbledore and tell 'im what exactly that filthy bastard 'as been doin'!" He staggered as he walked and shook his fist at Snape.  
  
"Ron, I told you, she claimed it was an accident--" Harry tried.  
  
"That's bullocks!", Ron shouted, his fingers trembling with fury, "He got 'er to think that, I just know it, Hermione don' make those kind of mistakes! It is him" -- he kept pointing at Snape furiously -- "him, and 'im alone!"  
  
Ron rushed out of the room; with some quickly spoken words from Harry promising to try to stop him, he too darted out.  
  
"Bloody Merlin", Snape cursed, rubbing his sore chin and crawling back to his feet. Would this charade ever stop?  
  
***  
  
Taking the piss - (you must be kidding me/are you trying to be funny?)  
  
Pants - knickers/underwear/panties  
  
Bullocks - Balls, testicals, means that something is bullshit.  
  
I am not cruel enough to leave it on a cliffhanger, well I suppose this is a kind of cliffhanger, Hermione is to awaken, but not as big as one.  
  
I now realise that it is better to writer shorter chapters as it will give my beta reader less work and in return I can update quicker, and you guys can read it straight away. Funny though, leaving it at a cliffhanger sure gave me a lot of reviews *laughs and ponders*  
  
JeanB, Redone, Bunny, Arysta, momma-dar, scarlett, Bre, bitc-of-da-world, Andufeniel, Daisy,  
  
YOUR REQUEST IS MY COMMAND!! With such a large majority demanding a quick update and complaining about my cliffhanger, what else is an author to do, than to update. Enjoy and tell me what you think ;)  
  
Lisa: Thank you very much, I write to improve my English, it isn't a day when I write that I don't learn a new word or two.  
  
Luna Writer: What happens when Ron discovers what has happened between Snape and Hermione, or did happen? Well I think you got your answer, but between the two of us (don't tell anybody) I plan to have Ron turn all his attention on Malfoy, and they will run off together to start a farm breeding only pure bread Canadian geese.  
  
Mordiliel: of course? hah.. well, I am flattered. Hmm, when I write about things I find funny, and interesting myself the chapters becomes better.. so I hope that the next few chapters will show a small improvement.  
  
Jasmin Flower: Snape Jr? hehehe.. well, they didn't really have sex, maybe I'll make a smut alternative version to this one.. "He lifted up the pyjama top, exposing her delicious looking bosoms. She felt strangely hot and sticky to the touch, her skin so firm and youthful. He stroke her body gently, feeling a strange growth in his trousers." *laughs*  
  
AnnabelleElizabeth: Pretty name, well I am not about to kill her off (yet) ;) But yes, Ron loves her.. and Snape just found out how much.  
  
Claire Bear Blondie: yes.. I am actually tempted to add more cliffhangers now, but they are cruel and I think that too many can piss people off.. *smiles* so I am being a good girl..  
  
Ezmerelda: Well, Malfoy is a prat, but no.. not quite.. if you are close? well.. no, I could explain why the Potion backfired, but I think Snape will do the job much better himself, so next chapter.. wait and see, I think few have guessed where I am actually taking this. But do continue guessing and I'll tell you when you do get close.. ;)  
  
Chishiono Tenshi: I think everybody has been such good girls and boys waiting (not that I know if any boys are reading any of this) but at least this time you wont have to wait for long.. Snape must be snarky and spicy, an un snarky snape is not a fun snape, a spice just gives the dish that little extra. I have had less complaints, I suppose I have difficulties keeping Hermione with the same personality, it is easy to shape yourself in to the female character you are writing, but also it tends to make it harder for the author to loose perspective when you write about a character with already a set personalety. Oh and Draco yes.. what I have planned for him wont be neither jolly of fun.. his spoiled arse is going to suffer when I get around to it.  
  
Nadeshiko Amamiya: I am sure there are around a 101 other Hermione wake up in Snapes bed themes, but I am not reading any of them to not let myself get influenced by others people oh so superior writing and creative ideas. As for the bedroom, if you read my last chapter again, I think I remembered to say that the boys only share their room with one other in their last year.. but well noticed, and Portugale is a beautiful country.  
  
Well I think that was all? *smiles* 


	13. Chapter 12 Hermione's dream

Hermione was dreaming, drifting, reliving memories of the potion, of the event and the issues she had so far encountered. Her life at Hogwarts was flashing before her eyes, and events related to the current disaster all came back to her, negative and pleasant. One time she was back in the classroom, and she witnessed an old memory, one which always brought a smile to her lips, one that was often repeated in the Gryffindor common room with boisterous laughter to follow, one that very strongly connected to her current situation:  
  
"Slytherin was scattered across their seats chatting eagerly among themselves, while the Gryffindors remained quiet. Occasionally, Draco or others of his house would throw a comment their way while half the class turned nervously toward the entrance, watching it while the Gryffindors, with (usually) Ron in the lead, would reply with an equally ill remark. This was how the start of all potion classes began in the sixth year, and it wasn't before the professor made his appearance, that all went still, and even the Slytherins found their appropriate seat.  
  
This Wednesday Snape looked exceptionally ill-tempered, and sallow, giving of a strong impression of sour milk. "Today, class," he thundered, moving swiftly behind the safety of his own desk before continuing in a softer tone, "we are to learn how to make .." he always began his lectures in a near whisper so that everybody had to strain to catch his words, none wanting to be caught missing out of a single comment ".. a contraceptive potion!" He finished gently, his hollow eyes darting swiftly across the length of the Gryffindor area, daring them to laugh.  
  
For a group of teenagers, it was difficult, especially for the girls to not break into an akward giggle at this surprising subject. Slytherin girls were already cackling like chickens, but Snape somehow seemed to miss this. "The process is quite simple, and quite fool proof, but I am certain there are those among you who will prove me wrong at this, so for some the wiser solution would be to avoid reproduction -" Neville Longbottom squirmed when he was confronted with a very specific look "- and save what little wizard blood is left" Slytherin laughed "It must be consumed by the female, no more than fifteen minutes before.." his lips curled in to a slight sneer "sexual intercourse." All the girls giggled except Hermione, who settled with a faint grin at Snape's look of discomfort! "Patil! Brown! Granger!" he snapped "fifteen points from Gryffindor!"  
  
"But Hermione didn't-"  
  
"Twenty points, Weasley!" Everyone went quiet, including Ron that now looked the colour of his hair.  
  
It was obviously this was a subject that he dreaded immensely, and she was right to guess it wouldn't ever be repeated nor appear on the final test. Pomfrey had them in four lessons this year that dealt with sexual education, but of all the magical alternatives, the potion was the most common and secure option, and therefore, Snape had the burden to educate them in the making and use of it.  
  
That day Neville melted his fourth cauldron in that year.  
  
***  
  
I will have to apologize, since I am suddenly hit with a strange writers block or writers constipation as some person described it. I don't know how long it will take, but I might have to take a break from this story wile trying to get my spirit back, I somehow know what to write but I can't get it down on paper. I have gotten some great advice from the mailing list "When I kissed the teacher" that is a must for anybody who likes "Hermione/Snape" pairing and I am taking their advice, trying to get my next chapter done. Now I know you guys are very patient so I thought I would offer this cracker/filler/crumb wile I am having my break, so you got something to read wile I get my writing back on track. It has nothing to do with my story really but amusing anyway.. something I wrote a wile ago..  
  
I have made a small writers challange, as a laugh for who ever might be mad enough, just scroll down it is after my answer to, Luna.  
  
Wow, I love you guys, the amount of reviews I got last time was amazing and best of all, you guys really wrote a lot when posting.. made me all happy and cheerful, and you know, sometimes you guys point things out in my story that makes me go "hmm, he/she is right, maybe I should add that" or "I didn't think about that, maybe I should do that next"  
  
JeanB: I am glad you like it, Ron getting angry bit was fun to write, and don't feel bad about being crazy, we all are *smiles* "Who got her pregnant?" "Err I believe that would be me" I wish I could have had Snape say that..  
  
Snape snook up behind Ron, a viciouse smirk playing on his lips.. "allow me to enlighten the boy.." he said to Harry who was peering up on the Potion master a bit startled "you need not fear Mr.weasley, she is not with child, as you see.. I am do take precautions" Ron half stumbled back, glaring up at Snape in disbelief, "w.. what? you mean.. you.. you--" "yes, Weasley, we fornicated" he felt every nerve in his body twitch as the words shaped in to some form of sense to him, Snape? She had, had sex with SNAPE? but.. how.. why.. she couldn't find him attractive could she? did this mean that they had.. oh god.. snape had.. touched her, he had.. he had.. been naked, she had been naked, they had, with her legs spread, and his hands, and his hips and her breasts, and.. he had.. penetrated.. oh god.. it couldn't be..  
  
I WOULD LOVE to write something like this.. but, it wouldn't be very fitting.. hah.. unfortunately.. ofcourse it is my story and I could make it fitting but, I mmm.. I like the clean knickers scene..  
  
Oh and my first language is Norwegian.  
  
Giovanna: I am glad to hear you enjoy it, I am updating, but I am sad to say it is maybe not what you expected.  
  
Nadeshiko Amamiya: It is complicated, I hope not too complicated, I am making a bit confusing on purpose, but I will clear up in the mess in a little, in my head it all make sense, kind of. I am very flattered that you continued to read my chapters, I hope I wont disappoint you. Oh and Brazil is a very pretty place, also, I have friends from there.  
  
Bre: What is wrong with Hermione? Well the potion is backfireing and uh, as it continues, Snape will be drawn in to her body, and she will be drawn in to his, and he will have to live the next few chapters as a 17 year old girl, having periods and being friend with Harry and, Hermione will have to take over Snape's life and be a potion master and learn to pee standing up and.. hmm.. wait.. isn't this already done before? oh bugger! My whole story line went down the toilet :P  
  
Claire Bear Blondie: Glad you like cliffhangers, it is still there.. *sorry sorry sorry  
  
phreakreader: you are THANKING me for the chapter? I should thank you for bothering to read my scribble, *laughs* oh and between you and me (don't tell anybody) Sirius and Remus will appear later..  
  
Luna Writer: Thank you moon lady, and it wasn't a cliff hanger for long *smiles* jasmin flower: *laughs* "Meet Katy and Gemma Snape, your twins" "oh they are beutiful Hermione, come to papa.. gotchy gotchy goo.. e he . look how they reach for my greasy hair, I just love kids" well.. it could happen I suppose.. anything can happen in fanfiction, the world is our to manipulate. And hmm.. "Uh, Mione, Sweetie, Please don't kill me..." that made me laugh too funny..  
  
A CHALLANGE to all writers/readers If anybody is mad enough out there, feel free to write a page long (or more) chapter, describing their resction, where Hermione decide to sleep with Snape since she already think she has and would make no diffrence now, (except it would perhaps be a more pleasent experience, instead of just knowing she lost her virginety to him) and well.. they discover her virginity is in tact.. too late, I would LOVE to see their reaction.. "oh professor, do you mind if we try again" how funny is that ;) and of course as you said "Uh, Mione, Sweetie, Please don't kill me... but.." I'll post the link to my story.. there I CHALLENGE you.. all of you..  
  
does not have to be long, just be a couple of sentences, or a description, smutty or not, or just the dialogue, or Hermione convincing him that she demand another go or else she will tell.. it is up to you how you wish to do it.. hah..  
  
shel: uhm.. please I can explain.. I am having difficulty writing.. please don't kidnap my loved ones.  
  
AppleJuiceMaster: mmm, the juice master one of my oldest reader, *hugs* I am sorry I don't know when Ill be able to post next, I hope in no less then another week.. I might post some pictures.. to compensate..  
  
Lisa: *laughs* yes Lisa you are right, stupid spell checker.. changed it to bulloxe ;) I will have to go back and change it sometime..  
  
Amber Dragon: Oooo a Gilbert and Sullivan fan, I was very flattered when one girl wrote me and said she had began to look up Gilbert and Sullivan after reading my story, that made me really excited.  
  
ChishionoTenshi: Suffer draco suffer!!! heh.. it will come.. my story will get darker I think.. and then draco will face his doom, as for Ron, oh yes, his hands got really sore, and he had to put some ice on it, kicking Snape in a rush of Adrenaline. I can't answer your question though with out revealing what I got planned for him *wink* it will all get a bit twisted and I still state that the ending will be very unexpected! As for the yeast, I liked that description.. "had a stench of yeast" but everybody that pre read it said "nah too nasty, I sudgest you remove that" did I listen? nah.. ;) they are good readers and beta readers but it is adult story so.. and misery is good sometimes ;) in small doses.  
  
Ezmerelda: *goes off to stuff her mouth with hay so she doesn't spill her horse guts too early*  
  
MadAboutHarry: You will be surprised, you will be surprised, you will be surprised *pokes fun* aaah a Harry fan, I do hope my harry hasn't ofended you.  
  
Cassandra: The girl he fancy got maybe pregnant after having sex with the man you think is just about the most disgusting person, after Voldermort, I think he acted nobly.. hah.. *chants with you* bad Ron bad ron..  
  
Penultimate Pentippelpus: the Norwegian with the funny name, hah, I pretend I know a lot about the background of Potter, but I am only using what little I know, making it sound better then it is.. don't be fooled by me.. I am not that impressive *smiles* Men takk! (but thank you)  
  
HarryPotter4077: Oooo what story is that? does it got any cucumbers in it? I am glad you like my story, I am sorry you have to wait a wile longer for chapter 13.  
  
Lionora: heh.. I posted two chapters very quickly after each other.. I do not hope you mean that her suffering put you off my story, and I am not a draco fan myself, I think he is annoying both in the book and in the movie, I want to kick his pure blood arse HAH.. but then I have taken a lot of liberties with him in my story. I like Ron, book Ron is neat, movie Ron is a good actor but annoying, but book Ron has some funny lines, and I don't have a problem seeing Snape hurt, I am perverted like that, I -love- Snape, but I don't mind seeing him trembling on the floor in agony, and same with Hermione as you might have noticed. I am trying to get to the part about what is really between Snape and Hermione but it is a difficult chapter to write so I am having a hard time.. and don't make your head explode, did that once, a lot of mess.. and thank you for wanting to read my twisted and perverted scribble..  
  
dirtypink: *laughs* really? wow.. that is flattering ;) I am glad somebody still find my sense of humour laughable.. thank you thank you..  
  
marina: I am sorry :( It will last for at least another week untile I manage to write this stupid stupid chapter.. thank you for likeing my plot line, I know it is hard to be "original" in the potter world, I am sure there are 100's of "Hermione wakes up in snapes bed" stories, but I like to think I got my own twist on it. Often I will tell people I write Snape/Hermione pairing, and people go "ewww" or "I can't see them as a couple" but then I explain about the dark stories they make, and about the fascination of writing about age difference and all the similarty in their personality and people think "hmm.. maybe.. hmm.." I personally think out of the HP fandome some of the best Potter stories I have so far read has mostly been Snape/Granger stories.. I find that a lot of authors really put their soul in to making these two characters come to life, they got so much energy to give in stories if you put them in the right setting, I am not saying I did that, but a sure alot of people have. I don't think I use alot of Brit slang, I try to stuff in a word here and there purposely because I am learning some myself because of the debates that has been about it on the very good mailing list "When I kissed the teacher" because of my british boyfriend, and because I think that Harry Potter with out his britishme looses some of its glow, the British side of Potter is the spice to the stew, so to say. Thank you my dear *hugs*  
  
There.. my responses, were actually longer then my actual post.. but I feel I must give you guys a proper answer back since you took the time to review *hugs* I hope you guys arn't too angry with me for wanting to wait, and if you are utterly utterly bored there is always that tiny challenge I posted earlier..  
  
Thank you for reading my story, I love you all for it, who ever you are. 


End file.
